


turn up the stage lights

by potato_writes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Ableism, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, alternate universe - broadway, but no incest, give brienne female friends 2k20, idk how much angst there actually is but, reasonably slow at least, this fic will be very accurate to real life until it isn't, this fic will teach you more about broadway than you ever wanted to know, this got very out of hand I apologize
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 95,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27962987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potato_writes/pseuds/potato_writes
Summary: Brienne Tarth has been stuck working backstage for almost her entire career. When Doran Martell offers her the chance of a lifetime, she's eager to seize the only chance she might get to achieve her dreams - even if it means she has to deal with an infamous co-star along the way.Jaime Lannister hasn’t set foot on the stage at all in the two years since he lost his hand. But he's been hoping to make a comeback for all that time, and the latest role to be sent his way might just be enough to not only bring him back to theatre, but to change his life forever.Amidst the glamour and glittering lights of the theatre district, two people embark on a journey that will shape their careers, their hearts, and their futures, both on the stage and off it.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 115
Kudos: 78





	1. First Reading/Welcome to the Moulin Rouge!

**Author's Note:**

> oh god I finally posted this. it's only taken an age and a half.
> 
> no seriously, I first started talking about this fic back in August, which should give you a pretty good idea of how ridiculously difficult it's been to write. it's still nowhere near complete, and I'm not going to bother giving an estimation of how long it's going to be because I really, really do not want to think about it.
> 
> but don't let my constant griping deter you! if you are like me and also extremely passionate about broadway, musical theatre, or seeing two of your favourite characters fall in love while performing on the stage together, then welcome! join me on the wild, unpredictable adventure this fic has become!
> 
> do note that because so much of this fic has yet to be written, both the tags and the rating are subject to change at any given time. I will try to be diligent about warning for things, but with a sprawling story like this one the chances that I'll miss something are very high. if you think I should tag for something or add an additional warning, please let me know. 
> 
> an enormous thank you goes to sdwolfpup for betaing this and also encouraging me to post it when I was dithering about it yesterday. I can also be found on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) if you want to come yell at me over there.
> 
> thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

_This is where all your dreams come true  
You are the Moulin Rouge!  
-Welcome To The Moulin Rouge, Moulin Rouge!_

**The King’s Landing Theatre District:**  
Affectionately referred to as Visenya’s Way or Visway, this glitzy region around the foot of Visenya’s Hill is filled with theatres which put on both plays and musicals of all different genres. Although Visway productions are much more expensive to attend than a production put on outside of the main theatre district, the high quality of every performance means that the area is absolutely worth a visit. It doesn’t hurt that the architecture of the theatres is gorgeous as well!  
_-Excerpt from Samwell Tarly’s Guide To King’s Landing_

***

Brienne Tarth hesitates outside the door to the Sunspear Theatre, the bag containing her script held firmly in her hands as she stares up at the tall brick building, the bright lights of its signs dimmed in the light of day. This isn’t her first time heading to a script reading. She’s done so dozens, maybe hundreds of times in her years working with her father in his theatres, another handful of times in the six years she worked for the Starks. But this one is different. For the only the second time, she’s taking on a leading role rather than filling an ensemble part or coming in as a backstage employee. And for the first time in her theatre career, she’s going to be performing on Visway.

Though this has been her dream since childhood, she’d never anticipated it becoming reality. From her first days of community theatre and high school productions, she’s been passed over in favour of other, more conventionally attractive women, ones who fit the director’s idea of a “leading lady” more than tall, awkward Brienne. In her time working for the Stark family, she bounced between different jobs in their theatres, only setting foot on the stage on the few occasions when they deigned to give her an ensemble role. Her father’s the only person who’s ever given her a chance and cast her based on talent alone.

Until now, it seems. It had been a risk, auditioning for this role while knowing the odds were against her, but the Martell family has always been more willing than most to cast people that most directors would politely refer to as “unconventional”. And her audition apparently left Doran Martell stunned, so much so he refused to consider anyone for the role other than her, despite no one else on Visway viewing her as a romantic lead and despite her distinct lack of experience on the stage. So here she is, lingering outside the theatre while she tries to build up the courage to walk inside and take her place within, the place she _knows_ she earned after years and years of rejection and failure, after years of spending every free minute practicing until her talents were finally enough to convince someone she deserved a chance to show the skill her appearance made so many people overlook.

She takes a deep breath in and tightens her grip on the strap of her bag. “I can do this,” she whispers, pushing her shoulders back and standing a little taller. “I earned this role. I have every right to be here.”

The mantra isn’t enough to soothe her nerves, but she steps into the theatre’s lobby anyway. Sunspear’s a gorgeous theatre, one of the oldest ones on Visway. It’s been renovated and refined in recent years, but it still has the same domed ceilings, the same red carpets with intricate sun-and-spear designs flowing across them. It still has the wall lined with sketches, a monument to all the shows that have played in the theatre in the years it’s been operating on Visway. The entire scene looks polished and elegant, and she feels very out of place as she stands in the foyer, gazing at the walls around her. 

Doran Martell waits for her by a side hallway, his hands neatly clasped in his lap as he sits in his wheelchair, a tall, broad-shouldered assistant hovering behind him. “Brienne!” he says to her, cheery and warm as she approaches. “I’m glad to see you here. I was worried you wouldn’t accept my offer, since you’ve been at Winterfell for so long.”

She smiles, shaking the hand he offers her. “I couldn’t find it in me to turn this one down. I don’t get many opportunities like this, so I was more than happy to take you up on it.”

Doran raises an eyebrow as she steps back. “I find that difficult to believe. You’re a very talented woman, Brienne. I’m shocked to hear that no one’s swooped in to take advantage of that fact yet.”

She blinks, unable to respond. Surely Doran can recognize that most casting directors won’t bother to look past outward appearance, no matter how talented she is? As a Dornishman, he’s faced his own fair share of discrimination from fellow Visway producers, after all.

But he seems unfazed by both her appearance and her inability to respond, instead turning to the assistant at his side. “Areo, do you mind pushing me while I escort Ms. Tarth to the stage? I think it’s time we gathered everyone together for the reading.”

His assistant—Areo—nods and moves behind Doran, pushing him down the hallway while Brienne hurries to catch up with them both. As they head towards the stage entrance at the end of the hall, Doran talks to her about the theatre and the family that’s owned it from the very beginning.

“Sunspear is one of the nine oldest theatres on Visway,” he tells her, sounding extremely proud of the rich legacy he’s inherited. “Along with Winterfell, Casterly, Eyrie, Highgarden, Storm’s End, Riverrun, Pyke, and Dragonstone, it’s among the few theatres on Visway that’s been in operation near perpetually from the very beginning, and we’re fortunate to boast a rich history of shows. Provided all goes well, this latest production may find itself a major part of that history.

“The Martell family has owned Sunspear for as long as it’s been in operation, along with several other nearby theatres including Water Garden, Starfall, and Godsgrace. During that time, we’ve established ourselves as some of the finest producers in the theatre industry, and I’m proud to be the most recent inheritor of that title. But enough history for now; I’d rather not turn into Tywin Lannister and constantly blather on about my legacy. Let me introduce you to your castmates.”

Areo pushes open the door leading to the stage, and Doran gestures for her to step through. As she does, she sees the majority of the cast sitting in the first three rows of seats, chatting among themselves in small groups. Several stagehands and creatives, including a man she recognizes as Willas Tyrell, the writer and orchestrator for the production, stand on the stage itself in a loose circle surrounding an upright piano, talking in quiet tones until the sound of Doran’s wheels on the stage attracts their attention.

“Oh, good,” the man beside Willas says as Doran and Brienne approach. “Everyone’s here. Brienne, if you don’t mind joining the rest of the cast for a bit, we’re gonna get started in a minute or so.” He looks similar to Doran, sharing the same tanned skin and dark hair, but there’s a sharp gleam in his eyes that Doran lacks. He must be Doran’s brother, then. The director, Oberyn Martell, whose work she’s followed avidly throughout the last several years, especially as _Aegon_ reached greater and greater heights of popularity. He seems distracted by his conversation with Willas, so she nods and moves to join the rest of the cast in their seats in front of the stage rather than trying to speak to him.

She drops into a seat next to two women who are laughing together at some shared joke, carefully placing her bag at her feet. As she does, her neighbours turn towards her, and the one closer to her extends a hand with a warm smile.

“Hey!” she says to Brienne, smiling much like Doran had upon greeting her earlier. “I’m Arianne. Arianne Martell. I presume you’re another member of the cast?”

“I am,” Brienne replies, taking Arianne’s hand. She must be Doran’s daughter, then. Brienne had longed to see her perform in _Aegon_ when it first opened, before she won the Webb for her work in that show. Sadly, tickets had been too expensive, and she’d never gotten the chance to see the show before the original cast began to leave it behind. “Brienne Tarth. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You were _amazing_ in _Aegon_.”

Arianne laughs, warm and easy and free and significantly kinder than any of the actresses Brienne worked with back at Winterfell Theatre. “You’re very kind, Brienne. I was just one of a large cast on that show.”

Her companion, a grey-eyed woman with hair cut in a neat bob, elbows her in the side, grinning broadly. “You’re too modest. The fact that you won a Webb for your performance tells me you were pretty damn good, even when you consider how ridiculously talented that cast was.”

“Working on that show taught me the value of humility,” Arianne responds with a roll of her eyes. “It’s hard to get cocky when you’re being told that you’re a part of the biggest Visway hit since gods know when and everyone’s looking around wondering who’s gonna be the one to mess it up for us.”

The second woman shrugs, turning to Brienne with a wry grin. “She says this every time. I still don’t believe her, but I’ll just have to live with that. I’m Asha, by the way. Asha Greyjoy, though I don’t like to advertise that part.”

“I can understand why,” Brienne says with a grimace. She’s been fortunate enough to avoid having to work at Pyke Theatre, but some of the stories she’s heard have been horrifying, even worse than the awful time she spent working under Randyll Tarly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

They both return the sentiment before Doran claps his hands from onstage, drawing everyone’s attention in his direction. “Welcome, everyone,” he says, smiling warmly at the assembled cast as the creative team fans out behind him. “It’s wonderful to see you all here. Some of you have been with the show since our Riverrun production, but there’s a few new folks here so we’ll begin the reading with some introductions. I’m Doran Martell, the lead producer for this show, as well as the owner of Martell Productions and this very theatre. Why don’t we start with the creatives, then the swings and ensemble, and work our way up to our leads?”

As soon as he finishes, his brother steps forward with a mischievous smirk on his face. “Hello to all! I’m Oberyn Martell, the younger and more fun brother, and I’ll be directing this project.”

Willas steps up next, leaning on his cane. “I’m Willas Tyrell, and I wrote the book and script for this show. I also orchestrated all of the music and got the copyright for the songs appearing in the show, so we don’t need to worry about getting sued.” A laugh ripples through the room, and Willas grins. “I do want to inform you that the script might not be finalized until our next reading, so be prepared for changes in the interim period. Until then, best of luck!”

An elegant woman with dark skin and glinting black eyes steps up as Willas retreats, and Brienne barely refrains from gasping aloud. “I’m Ellaria Sand,” she tells them, “and I’ll be choreographing this lovely show.”

Asha grins at Brienne’s shocked face as Ellaria steps back. “No one told you that Ellaria Sand was working on this project, did they?” she hisses over Arianne’s head 

“No, they didn’t,” Brienne replies absently, staring after Visway’s most renowned choreographer as she takes a seat next to Oberyn. Ellaria Sand is legendary even to those who don’t know her work, and Brienne used to be a _massive_ fan of _Sunspear_ when she was younger. She still is, if she’s completely honest with herself.

Several other people introduce themselves, though she doesn’t quite hear their names. Areo, it turns out, is not just an assistant but also the stage manager at Sunspear Theatre, but otherwise no one is as memorable as _Ellaria Sand_ , of all people.

The eight swings and standbys stand up and introduce themselves in quick succession, far too quickly for most of them to register in Brienne’s mind. She does catch Jeyne Westerling, who will be her primary understudy for the show’s run, but before she has time to process all the names the ensemble members are beginning to introduce themselves as well.

The ensemble is easier to remember, at least. She presumes Theon Greyjoy is Asha’s brother from the way Asha fondly rolls her eyes when he introduces himself, and Eddison Tollett is good friends with Jon Snow, a former colleague from her time at Winterfell Theatre. Hyle Hunt she unfortunately knows all too well, but Podrick Payne is another former colleague who she’s much happier to see has worked his way onto the stage. There’s also Ygritte Wilde, another friend of Jon’s who Brienne worked with a few times back at Winterfell, and she recognizes Missandei Grey from several press releases, since the young woman is quite good friends with rising Visway force Daenerys Targaryen. Other than that, the names are a blur, but she’ll learn in time. They’ll be spending a great deal of time around each other for the next little while, so they won’t have much choice.

Four men stand up next, three clustered together and one by himself across the aisle. The three standing together introduce themselves as Gendry Waters, Arys Oakheart, and Quentyn Martell, playing three of the dancers who work in the show’s nightclub setting. The fourth is also playing one of those dancers, but she doesn’t need an introduction to recognize Ronnet Connington with a sinking feeling in her chest. 

“Connington’s an asshole,” Arianne mutters from next to her, shaking her head. “He was around during Riverrun, too, and Uncle Oberyn is still really pissed he couldn’t come up with an excuse to fire him when we were making the transition to Visway. The others are cool though, even Quentyn, despite the fact that he’s my brother.”

Brienne doesn’t need Arianne to tell her that Ron Connington’s an asshole. She already knows that information, even if she’s not about to divulge how. But he’s not worth her time or energy, as she’s been telling herself constantly in the years since she last saw him, and she’s not going to waste either of those things getting worked up over his presence now. 

A woman who looks remarkably similar to Willas stands, interrupting Brienne’s thoughts. “I’m Margaery Tyrell,” she says with a warm grin, “and I’ll be playing the Duchess of Highgarden.” 

“I saw her in _Come From Away_ ,” Asha says quietly as Margaery sits down. “I don’t think it was her best work, but she’s really quite good. She’ll nail the Duchess; it’s well suited for her.”

Asha stands next, along with another woman seated across the room. “I’m Asha Greyjoy,” she announces to the group, “and I’ll be playing Esgred the Ironborn.”

“And I’m Obara Sand,” the second woman adds, “and I’ll be playing Tyanna Haratis.”

They both sit, and Arianne stands in their place. “I’m Arianne Martell,” she announces, “and I’ll be playing Valena Yronwood.”

Then she sits, and it’s Brienne’s turn. Hiding her shaking hands behind her back, she stands and sends a cursory glance around the room. “I’m Brienne Tarth,” she says, grateful that her voice doesn’t shake. “And I’ll be playing Cyrenna.”

Asha offers her a fistbump as she sits, which she gladly accepts. Thankfully, Doran seems willing to let everyone introduce themselves naturally, rather than trying to ‘break the ice’ with a stupid game that will only serve to make them all uncomfortable. It’s hard enough for her to remember so many names at once as it is.

Finally, a man rises to his feet, and Brienne barely bites back a groan of frustration. Jaime Lannister hasn’t gotten any less handsome in the ten years since she last saw him, though his golden hair’s now cut short and his right arm ends in a stump rather than a hand. She’d hoped the rumours of his casting weren’t true, but it appears her luck is rather thin when it comes to her new castmates. “I’m Jaime Lannister,” he tells the group, as if they need to be told who he is, “and I’ll be playing Sebaston.”

Brienne shakes her head as he sits down. “I was really hoping that particular casting rumour wasn’t true,” she mumbles. “Guess I’m not that lucky.”

Arianne shoots her a sharp look. “Why? You’re not one of those idiots who buys into the whole Kingslayer thing, are you?”

“Of course not!” Brienne says, casting a dark look at Jaime Lannister as he sits back down next to Quentyn Martell and Gendry Waters. “Aerys Targaryen was a piece of shit who got exactly what he deserved. But I worked with Lannister on that _Company_ revival everyone loves to rave about, and he was _such_ an asshole.”

“You worked on _Company_?” Asha demands, shooting up in her seat. “That’s still the best revival of that show anyone’s ever done. Far better than the upcoming one with fucking _Robert Baratheon_ in the lead role.”

“I was an assistant stage manager for that run,” Brienne explains, sitting back slightly. “I didn’t interact with him all that much, but he was unspeakably rude to me on the few occasions we happened to cross paths. I _will_ concede that he was really good though. He definitely earned that Webb award, no matter how much of a piece of shit he was.”

Arianne frowns but doesn’t counter Brienne’s words. “He’s matured a lot in recent years,” she says, nodding in Lannister’s direction. “Especially since he lost his hand. I won't deny that he used to be an asshole of the worst kind, and he was never worse than when he was doing _Company_. But he’s not nearly as abrasive as he used to be, and he’s always been a remarkably talented actor. Definitely better than Baratheon.”

“Robert Baratheon’s a has-been trying to pretend he’s still a hot ticket,” Asha grumbles, shaking her head. “No wonder Olenna Tyrell hates this revival so much.”

“His ex-wife isn’t any better,” Arianne agrees. “I mean, she’s doing a _West Side Story_ revival without any Dornish actors in it. And I know it’s Tywin Lannister and we can’t expect anything better from him, but you’d think she’d have enough sense to recognize doing that show in that way is a bad idea in this day and age.”

Brienne nods slowly, absorbing the information as Asha adds her own piece in. “Say what you want about Jaime Lannister, but at least he had the sense to get away from her before her career went downhill. Best decision he ever made—except for finally splitting with his asshole father, of course.”

“Didn’t she dump _him_ , though?” Brienne asks, even though she knows the answer. Cersei Hill—now Baratheon—splitting up with Jaime Lannister at the Webb Awards right before he won his first Webb was the biggest Visway gossip for almost a year when it happened, especially since no one truly knows why the breakup happened. “That would make it the worst decision she ever made, if you’re right.”

Asha nods, but Oberyn interrupts from the stage before she can speak. “Alright, everyone!” he calls, clapping his hands twice. “Before we begin our reading, I want to do a quick run-down of the show itself. Are we all ready?”

Heads nod all around the room, and Oberyn smiles broadly in response. “Excellent. I presume most of you are aware of the now-classic film _Moulin Rouge!_ , correct? My uncle Lewyn directed and produced the film, which our own dear Willas Tyrell wrote when he was only 18, and it quickly became a major hit. Originally, it starred Brynden Tully as the writer and composer Sebaston and Ashara Dayne as the courtesan Cyrenna, but when I received permission to adapt the film to stage from my uncle I wanted to shake things up a little. Which is why we’ve swapped our leads, so Cyrenna, who will be played by the lovely Brienne Tarth, is now the writer, and Sebaston, played by our dear Jaime Lannister, is now the courtesan.”

Everyone cheers at that, even Brienne. Oberyn gives them another flashing smile before continuing on. “Some of you were with us for our run in Riverrun, which was an excellent starting point even if some of the casting fell flat. After some changes to both script and cast, we’re now preparing to open on Visway in approximately five months, and I’m very excited to see how things come together. Now, if everyone could take out their scripts…”

He waits for the rustling of paper to die down before nodding and folding his hands in front of him. “Alright. I’m going to assume everyone is at least somewhat familiar with the original film, so I won’t bother to run through the plot right now. Willas, do you have anything you want to say before we begin?”  
“Yes, actually,” the writer says, limping slightly as he steps forward to smile warmly at the gathered cast. “Thank you everyone, both for being here and for tolerating my endless script rewrites. I swear they’re almost finished at this point.”

They all chuckle at that, and Arianne leans over to whisper in Brienne’s ear, muttering, “They really have been annoying, but it’s for the best, probably. The new songs he’s added in are really good, and I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out.”

Up on the stage, Willas continues smoothly, picking up right where he left off as if the interruption never happened. “ _Moulin Rouge!_ was my first film, and my first foray into writing, so it’s very near and dear to my heart, more so than anything I’ve done since. I have to admit, I was a little tentative when I was first approached about a stage adaptation, but so far everything I’ve seen has made my worries seem completely unfounded. I have total confidence that you’ll pick up where the Riverrun production left off and make it even better. And so I want to thank you once again, for taking part in my vision and helping make it into reality.”

He steps back as the cast cheers once again, and Oberyn takes his place as the noise dies down. “Thank _you_ , Willas, for working so hard to give us such an excellent script to work with. Speaking of which, I believe it’s time for us to begin...unless anyone has any further questions?”

There’s a pause, then he nods. “Very well then. Let’s start from the top, then. Dancers, start us off!” 

***

 **Jaime Lannister to Headline _Moulin Rouge!_ Stage Adaption**  
Robert Arryn for visway.com  
News July 3rd, 2019

The stage adaption of the beloved film _Moulin Rouge!_ is set to come to Visway later this year at Sunspear Theatre. Two-time Webb winner Jaime Lannister is set to take on the role of Sebaston in the gender-flipped production, while Visway newcomer Brienne Tarth will be starring opposite him as Cyrenna. The production is scheduled to begin performances on October 12th, and will be directed by Webb winner Oberyn Martell. It has also been revealed that seven-time Webb winner Ellaria Sand will be joining the production as choreographer. The show will open on November 7th and play an open-ended run that is expected to last until at least the Webb Awards, expected to be on June 7th of next year.

“I’m very excited to be returning to the stage, especially in a show as thrilling as _Moulin Rouge!_ ” Lannister said in a statement. “Oberyn Martell has a knack for clever direction that will do his uncle’s legacy proud, and I have nothing but good things to say about Willas Tyrell’s rewrites to his original script from the film.”

The original film was written and orchestrated by Willas Tyrell, who is returning to help adapt his film about a young man coming to Pentos and falling in love with the beautiful star of the Moulin Rouge nightclub. Over the course of their ultimately doomed romance, they learn a great deal about love, life, and music, all while supported by the eclectic Bohemians and other denizens of the nightclub. The jukebox musical film combined a multitude of popular songs to tell its story, and is reportedly being updated to include music released in the period since the film came out.

Lannister has appeared on Visway in _King Baelor, Wicked, Company, The Crucible, Long Day’s Journey Into Night_ , and _Once_ , before an accident took his right hand and forced him to take two years away from the stage. _Moulin Rouge!_ marks his return to Visway, as well as an abrupt departure from his work with his own family’s company, a matter on which he declined to comment.

***  
It’s been two years since Jaime last set foot inside a theatre, yet it feels just as natural to return as it felt to be in one back then. 

There was a time, right after the accident when the wound was still fresh and he was still bitter and grieving, when he thought his career was over. Who on Visway would want a one-handed man taking on their leading roles, when there were people like Loras Tyrell and Jon Snow they could cast instead, who were young and attractive and still had all their limbs attached? But he persevered, kept practicing even when he thought he’d never sing on stage again, and now all of that work has paid off because he’s _back_.

The victory tastes all the sweeter because his father has nothing to do with it. Tywin Lannister was furious when his eldest son refused to take up his expected position as heir to his theatre empire after the accident, even more so when said son decided to take a role with the Martells, of all people. Jaime doesn’t regret it, though. He should have done something like this years ago, before he made the mistakes that lead to him losing his hand and being forced to rebuild his entire identity from scratch.

Doran Martell told him as much during his audition, though he didn’t seem angry when he did. Surprising, since the Martells have more reason to hate his father than most, but Doran’s a master of the long game. He’s more than capable of spending years plotting revenge.

Perhaps casting Jaime in defiance of his father is a part of that. Not that he’s complaining, of course. This show offers him a fresh start after losing his hand and breaking from his father, as well as an opportunity to work with several Visway creatives he’s secretly admired for a long time. Ellaria Sand, for instance, is the sort of person his father would never allow inside one of his precious theatres, but Jaime’s been fascinated by her work since he saw _The Pajama Game_ years ago. To be able to finally work with Visway’s greatest choreographer is a dream come true.

Margaery drops into the seat next to him, interrupting his stream of thoughts. “Fancy seeing you here,” she says casually while sending a meaningful look towards him. “It’s been what, two years now since you were last on stage? A lot of people thought _Once_ would be your last show.”

He shrugs, turning to face her as Oberyn discusses the finale with Willas and a couple of the other actors. “So did I, to be honest. But Doran made an offer I couldn’t pass up. And I’ve missed this. A lot.”

She smiles, kinder than he’s ever seen from her before. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“We seem to get along much better when my father’s not trying to matchmake between us,” Jaime says after a moment of silence. He likely gets along better with most people when his father isn’t around, or so he’s noticed since he left the world of Tywin Lannister behind. 

Margaery laughs at that. “Very true. Plus, the rumour is that you’ve mellowed out quite a bit since the last time we met.”

“Losing a hand will do that to you.” 

He’s had a great deal of time to think since the accident. It’s led him to several conclusions he likely wouldn’t have reached had he remained in the spotlight, constantly surrounded by the glamour and magic of Visway. He still won’t say he’s _grateful_ he lost his hand—that would be a bit too much, even for his admittedly dramatic standards—but he’s definitely a much better person for it. 

“You were part of the Riverrun production, right?” he asks in order to change the subject. “How was it?”

“Oh, it was a shitshow,” she says with a shudder. “The two leads were decent actors, but they had no chemistry whatsoever and _every_ reviewer pointed that out in cutting detail. We didn’t have Ellaria on board yet, and the choreographer we _did_ have was not equipped to deal with such a showy production despite his best efforts. Willas couldn’t get permission to use certain songs in time, which meant he wasn’t able to make several changes he really wanted to make, and dealing with Ronnet Connington the whole time didn’t make things any better. I’m shocked Oberyn couldn’t find an excuse to fire him before moving to Visway. Overall, it could have been _worse_ , but I’m not surprised they recast half the show in the interim.”

“Gods, that sounds like a nightmare.” He’d heard the Riverrun production of _Moulin Rouge!_ hadn’t gone as well as Oberyn had hoped, though he’s grateful for the opportunity that fiasco’s provided him with. “Hopefully things go better for our production, though I am a little concerned about my co-lead being a complete unknown. I’ve heard some good things about her, however, enough to balance out quite a few of my concerns.”

“Brienne’s good,” she tells him, leaning forwards in her seat. “Really good, even though she’s never had a leading role on Visway before. Her dad owns several Off-Visway theatres, and she’s had minor roles in a handful of his productions. I saw her in _Murder Ballad_ when they gave her the lead in it a few years back and was absolutely blown away. She may be an unknown, but that’s only because no one’s given her the opportunity to do anything big before now. She’s going to be so impressive in this role once she gets comfortable with it.”

Jaime nods, processing that information. _Murder Ballad_ , and its lead in particular, had received rave reviews when it debuted Off-Visway, and though he hadn’t been able to see the production for himself, he’d been shocked when the young lead hadn’t immediately shot up to Visway stardom status. But then he’d studied Brienne Tarth when she rose and introduced herself earlier, and he can see why she’s been denied chances to make her big break before. Visway likes to pride itself on being more diverse and accepting than the film industry, but he’s been in the business for long enough to know that’s absolutely not the case. A large, unconventional woman like Brienne Tarth is not going to be considered by the majority of casting directors looking for a generically pretty new diva to plant on the stage in hopes of making the next Elia Martell—despite the fact that Elia made her career out of being phenomenally talented and had to endure a great deal of judgement from the industry along the way. Although…

“Didn’t she used to work for the Starks? I thought they’d be the sort to give her a chance to shine onstage.”

Margaery grimaces and lowers her voice. “The Starks like to pretend they’re more accepting than they actually are, if I’m totally honest. The children aren’t as bad about it as their parents are, but Ned Stark in particular doesn’t like to stray from Visway tradition, and that means sticking to conventional casting even when that’s no longer what audiences are looking for. They’re not nearly as terrible about it as your father or the Greyjoys, but I can understand why Brienne wanted to move away from them.”

Another woman strides over to join them, and Jaime nods a greeting at Obara Sand as she takes up Margaery’s line of conversation. “It doesn’t help that Winterfell Theatre hasn’t hosted a hit production in years. They thought they had one with the latest _Company_ revival, but then they made the mistake of casting Robert fucking Baratheon in the lead role.”

“The rumour is that either this production or _Six_ down at Dragonstone Theatre is going to be this year’s big show,” Jaime agrees as Obara sits next to Margaery. “Which is gonna infuriate my father. He was really banking on _West Side Story_ being the show to save him.”

Obara arcs an eyebrow at his comment. “So the rumours are true, then. Tywin Lannister really is on the verge of going bankrupt.”

Jaime can’t help but groan aloud at the mention of the bankruptcy and the memories it brings of his last conversation with his father. “Yeah, and it’s his own fucking fault, too. Casterly Theatre hasn’t hosted a hit for even longer than Winterfell, and he keeps shooting himself in the foot by reviving old shows that no one cares about anymore rather than going for something daring and new. The theatre audience is shifting younger with the advent of shows like _Aegon_ , and he’s not adjusting to that change at _all_. It’s part of why I ended up coming here. At least the Martells are willing to take risks and try some daring unknown show rather than sticking to the same old stuff.”

“Sounds like you’re happy to have left that life behind,” Margaery says, her sharp eyes fixed on him. “My grandmother isn’t convinced of that yet, though you’ve still got time to prove her wrong.”

“Well, tell her she has no reason to worry. Ditching my family’s company was the best decision I ever made.”

And one made ten times easier by his father’s decision to bring Cersei Baratheon on for his latest attempt at reviving a so-called ‘classic’ show. He hasn’t seen Cersei for ten years, not since she walked away from him on the red carpet, and he’d much rather keep things that way. It’s taken him years of therapy to recover from the damage that relationship did to him, and he still winces every time he hears her name in conjunction with his father’s. Of all the things she did to him, staying away after their breakup is the only one he’s grateful for.

Obara shrugs, leaning back in her seat and slinging an arm across the back of Margaery’s seat. “Well, we’re grateful for it. The guy playing Sebaston before was _fine_ , but he wasn’t really what my dad wanted for the role, and I don’t think he was all that enthusiastic about the whole reversed roles thing either. You don’t seem to have much of a problem with that, though.”

“I like what’s being done with this production,” he says casually. “It’s nice to finally see someone messing with the standard formula and not making a huge deal out of it. This show doesn’t gain or lose any complexity or meaning with the roles reversed, and it’s still got all of the fun that made people enjoy the movie so much. I love existential musicals as much as the next person, but it’s nice to not have to _think_ too much about the show you’re watching sometimes.”

“You make a fair point,” Margaery says, before perking up and waving at someone across the room. “Hey, Brienne! Come over here! None of us have been introduced to you yet.”

Brienne Tarth turns from where she’s been listening to Asha Greyjoy chatter on about something or other and nods before coming over to join them, her expression open and welcoming—until her gaze turns to him, and her stunning blue eyes turn steel cold.

 _Ouch_ , he thinks as she smiles at Margaery and Obara without sparing another glance for him. He’s never met her before as far as he can recall, yet she already hates him for some reason only she knows of. He sincerely hopes it’s not about Aerys, but that one has burned him too many times for him to confidently assume anything.

She chats with Margaery and Obara for a while, the three women exchanging light pleasantries as he observes them from the side, studying Tarth with an assessing gaze. She’s strong, likely stronger than he is, and carries herself with the sort of false confidence he recognizes from his brother, the air of someone who’s always anticipating an attack that has no power to hurt them but is certainly going to be irritating as the seven hells to deal with. And those _eyes_ …

Margaery and Obara have become distracted by something happening on the other side of the room, and Tarth looks like she’s about to walk away, but he seizes his chance to speak before she can do so, rising to his feet and half-extending a hopeful left hand towards her.

“Hey,” he says before he can rethink his decision. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet. A shame, since it seems we’re gonna be spending a great deal of time together from now on.”

She smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and takes his hand gingerly, as if she expects him to bite her. “Hello. You’re right, it seems we will be. Not that we have to get along to do so, of course.” Her tone is far cooler than he’d expected, and she lets his hand go far too quickly.

“I _like_ getting along with my castmates, though,” he replies, reeling back a little from her cold words. “It’s a lot easier than pretending to get along with someone who actually hates you.”

She rolls her eyes, already turning away from him. “That’s a very different attitude than the one you had on _Company_.”

He closes his eyes briefly, biting back a drawn-out groan. _Great_. At least her dislike seems to be stemming from a valid place, and not fucking Aerys Targaryen again. He won’t deny that he was an absolute piece of shit while doing _Company_ , but he hadn’t known she’d worked on that show—not until now, at least. “People can change. I know I’ve had to change a great deal in the last couple years.”

She just snorts and looks away, her expression showing her disbelief better than any words ever could. “A lot of people have told me that over the years. And do you want to know how many of them actually changed? Not one. Not a single one.”

With that, she walks away from him without looking back, leaving him gaping after her in shock and more than a little awed respect. Not once in his entire career has anyone called him out on his shit behaviour from his _Company_ days before, even though he absolutely deserves it and is fortunately now mature enough to be fully aware of the fact. If they’d still been back on that production, he’d have sent some parting comment at her back, something cruel and cutting and entirely undeserved, no matter how harsh her statement had been. Instead, he remains silent, even as his father’s voice in his head whispers the exact words he might have flung at her—and maybe did say to her before, since she apparently worked on _Company_ with him.

Margaery had been commenting on Tarth’s skill as an actress when she’d called her ‘impressive’ earlier, but he’s tempted to amend that statement in order to apply it to another aspect of his new co-star—and one beyond her staggering height. Calling him out to his face makes her bolder than every other colleague he’s had in his near-twenty years on Visway, and her determination to make a career on the stage despite having likely faced immense pushback from every other producer she’s ever auditioned for means she has a kind of courage all the Lannisters Jaime can think of lack. 

If her performance is even half as impressive as the woman herself, then he’s utterly, completely fucked. _How can I possibly compare to someone as majestic as that, even if she’s been burdened with a mismatched face and almost as much height as Gregor Clegane? Why would anyone want to watch me on the stage when they could be watching someone like Brienne Tarth instead?_

“I can’t let her faze me,” he mutters to himself, watching as she engages in a lively debate with Asha Greyjoy and Arianne Martell, far away on the other side of the room. “I won’t let her be another Cersei. I can’t afford that, not again.”

Brienne Tarth may have caught him off guard today, but he hasn’t survived on Visway as long as he has by letting his opponents walk away after one battle. He can win her over or he can alienate her even further, but either way he’s going to have to do a great deal of work in order to survive having the indomitable Brienne Tarth as a co-star for the next ten months, at the very least. And in the meantime, he’ll do his best to persuade her that he really has learned from his past mistakes, as he’s had to do with dozens of co-stars before. 

He’s sure his charm will get to her eventually. After all, he’s Jaime Lannister. Why wouldn’t it?

***

**Backstage Visway Podcast Episode 228 Transcript:**

MR: Hey everyone, I’m Meera Reed.

RMT: And I’m Rhaenys Martell-Targaryen.

MR: You’re currently listening to the Backstage Visway Podcast, on which we talk about the latest Visway news, review new shows, host guests for interviews, and keep you up to date on all things Visway. There’s a lot to talk about this week, so we’re going to jump right in.

RMT: This week’s big news is the casting announcement for the Visway production of _Moulin Rouge!_ , playing at the Sunspear Theatre next season. There’s already been a fair bit of discussion about the cast, especially since it was announced after the Riverrun production that neither of the leads would be following the show to Visway, but we’re only really interested in one member of the cast.

MR: Jaime Lannister.

RMT: Yes, everyone’s favourite—or least favourite—infamous Visway star is returning to the stage at last. You either love him or hate him, since he’s been among Visway’s more controversial faces in the past, but after two years away from the stage, he’s returned to take on the role of Sebaston in _Moulin Rouge!_

MR: He’s definitely a controversial actor, though I’m not fully certain he deserves all of that controversy. I mean, we’re all well aware of how terrible Aerys Targaryen was, aren’t we?

RMT: Oh, absolutely. As a Targaryen myself, I can attest to it. But people aren’t very comfortable with those who go against the usual methods of ‘sit by and let all sorts of shit happen while hoping it doesn’t affect us’, and so they’re _very_ uncomfortable with Jaime Lannister because he decided he didn’t like that idea.

MR: I know I say this every time we bring up a controversy, but people suck sometimes. 

RMT: Not any of our listeners, though. I’m sure you’re all fabulous.

MR: [laughs] Anyways, we all know about Aerys Targaryen, which earned Lannister his infamy, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind most of you about his famously explosive relationship with Cersei Baratheon, who I believe is going by Hill again now that she’s divorced?

RMT: No, she’s still using Baratheon. Pretty sure it’s because she gets more clout that way.

MR: Ah, I see. My dad always calls her Hill at home, but her name usually only comes up in the context of that breakup, so that’s not exactly a reliable source of information.

RMT: If you’re a new Visway fan—as in, you fell in love with theatre after the whole Aerys Targaryen thing went down—then chances are you know Jaime Lannister for one of two things: his breakup with Cersei Hill, or his highly publicized accident two years ago.

MR: Which we shall spare you the details of because it’s both highly publicized and absolutely _horrific_.

RMT: There’s a lot more we could say here, but long story short he lost his right hand in that accident and took two years off to recover from it. For a while, there was a lot of speculation about if he was going to return to the stage at all, but it seems he’s decided to make his comeback, and to the surprise of many it’s _not_ with his father, who may be even more infamous than he is.

MR: [groans] Let’s keep this conversation Tywin Lannister-free, please. You know how much I hate him.

RMT: Won’t be a problem. I feel the same way. Most of the conversation around this production has, predictably, been dominated by two things, Jaime Lannister and the gender-swapped casting.

MR: Kind of makes me feel bad for his costar, if you ask me.

RMT: Brienne Tarth? She’s _so_ good. I got to see her when she did _Murder Ballad_ and her performance was absolutely incredible.

MR: Don’t rub it in, Rhaenys. I’m still upset about not making it in to see that production. 

RMT: At any rate, the talk surrounding the production has been a bit skewed towards a few people and things, and I personally don’t think all of it has been fair. Flipping the script hasn’t been done nearly enough on Visway, and I’m still not sure why so many people hate Jaime Lannister as much as they do. Maybe I’m biased because my mom’s friends with him, but I just don’t get it.

MR: I was going to say there’s a lot of Aerys Targaryen fans still out there, but that’s an even worse thought than Tywin is. 

RMT: Oh _gods_ , that’s a terrible idea. Why would you even bring that up?

MR: Sorry? I personally think it’s impressive he’s coming back to the stage so soon after his accident. I don’t think I’d be able to return to theatre so quickly after such a traumatizing event, no matter how much I love what I do. The combination of the accident and the fact that his father—who hadn’t so much as visited him in the hospital—announced he wouldn’t be returning to _Once_ before Jaime could make a statement on his own behalf must have been utterly demoralizing, and not at all an incentive to keep performing. The fact that he’s coming back at all instead of giving up or moving on to something else is astounding, and I applaud him for it.

RMT: It can’t be easy to do. And there’s no denying he’s good at what he does. Even people who hate him have given him rave reviews, and very few people with two Webbs are actually terrible actors.

MR: I was going to start citing names, but I forgot Robert Baratheon was only _nominated_ twice.

RMT: Sometimes I think we drag Robert Baratheon too much on this podcast, but then I remember I’ve seen him on stage before, and that our dragging is really the least of what he deserves.

MR: Isn’t that our next topic? The early reviews from the latest _Company_ revival?

RMT: I believe it is, actually. If you want to add your own voice to the Jaime Lannister discussion, contact us on Twitter by tagging @backstagevwaypod or by emailing us at backstagepod@ravenmail.com.

MR: I’d say we look forward to it, but I’m also in charge of the email inbox, so I really don’t.

RMT: Meera! You’re not supposed to tell them that!

[End of Transcript]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every show that's mentioned in this fic is a real broadway show, though some of the names have been changed to better suit a modern Westeros. most of the names in this chapter are the same as in real life; however, there are a few noteworthy changes: _Aegon_ is the Westerosi equivalent of _Hamilton_ , which I'm sure you've all heard of at some point; _Sunspear_ is the Westerosi equivalent of _Chicago_ , another well-known musical that's been on broadway for a long time; _King Baelor_ , which only gets mentioned once in this chapter but will become more relevant later, is the Westerosi equivalent of Shakespeare's _King Lear_.
> 
> the King's Landing of this fic borrows a lot from New York City, where real-life Broadway is. I don't live in NYC and I've only ever been there once, so don't take anything I say about it as fact.
> 
> the visway.com site that's the source of the second article in this chapter is going to come up quite a bit in this fic. it's based on the real publication [broadway.com](https://www.broadway.com), which is one of if not THE big broadway news source. the podcast at the end is entirely of my own invention, however.
> 
> some of the characters in this fic are loosely based on real people as well. I'll add more about them as the story progresses, but in this chapter we're introduced to Ellaria Sand, whose position as the best known choreographer on Visway is inspired by real choreographer [Bob Fosse](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bob_Fosse), arguably the best-known choreographer ever for stage and screen, and also the most awarded choreographer ever on Broadway (he won a total of eight Tony Awards, including one for direction). he also had a very tumultuous personal life, but that's not getting translated over to Ellaria. he's also dead, which makes that even more obvious.
> 
> this season on Visway is based off of what would have been the 2019-2020 Broadway season if covid hadn't happened, with a few changes. in real life, the gender-swapped show is the _Company_ revival, not _Moulin Rouge!_ , and as far as I'm aware there's no real-life controversy regarding the latest _West Side Story_ revival and whitewashed casting (there was another controversy regarding it, but that'll come up later on). 
> 
> also the Webb Awards are basically the Tony Awards, which are pretty much the Oscars but for stage plays and musicals. they will become more relevant later on in this fic.
> 
>  _Moulin Rouge!_ really does have a stage adaption. it opened in July 2019 and stars Aaron Tveit and Karen Olivo in the lead roles. reviews have actually been fairly mixed, but I love it a lot. the whole thing where the stars of the Riverrun production have no chemistry between them actually comes from a review of the broadway show that said the leads don't have any chemistry. thanks, random reviewer! there's a lot of changes to the show from the original movie, which contributes to people's mixed feelings about it (I like it, but I also haven't seen the original film so I don't actually know how different they are).
> 
> before you feel too bad for jaime, know that he absolutely deserves brienne yelling at him. he'll freely admit to you that he deserves it, too. 
> 
> next time: another reading happens, there's a few more conversations, and several confrontations occur in the process.


	2. Second Reading/I Love NY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he can decide where to go, Oberyn catches his eye and beckons him over with a sharp gesture. “I just wanted to check in with you,” he says once Jaime comes to a halt beside him. “It’s been two years since you were last on stage, and this show is going to be much more demanding than _Once_ was. If there’s anything you feel you aren’t able to handle, let me know and we’ll come up with an alternate solution.”
> 
> Jaime can’t help but laugh, despite the reaction not being at all appropriate. “I really did make the right call, coming here. My father would never have offered something like that to any of his employees.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we go. this chapter was not supposed to be as long as it is but there's not much I can do about it now.
> 
> a note about timeline: in real life there's no way a musical production would be holding script readings this close to the actual opening. readings are generally spaced out over what can be years while the script is refined and finalized. however, that would be a nightmarishly long period of time to cover, and I'm only having a few readings at the beginning so I can introduce characters and lay the ground for the relationships between them. I won't be able to do that during the rehearsal part of this fic.
> 
> also, a warning for this chapter: a character says several misogynistic and racist things towards the end of this one. they face immediate repercussions for their words and no one else supports what they are saying, however. still, be aware of it!
> 
> I forgot to mention this last time but the overall title of this fic is from in the heights. I should also mention that I'm going to quote songs at the beginning of each chapter, all of which are (obviously) actual songs from musicals. once I finalize a few outline things, I might link the playlist here so you can hear them all together. they don't always totally fit the tone of the chapter because I'm stealing a few lines at most, but I like them so it really doesn't matter all that much.
> 
> a huge thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this chapter and for making me laugh for a week straight about the logistics of carrying coffee. I can also be found on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) if you want to come yell at me there.
> 
> thank you for reading, and enjoy!

_The skyline is my lover  
And I want no other  
I love New York twenty four hours  
The night's my delight...  
-I Love NY, Murder Ballad_

**Lannister and Martell Sightings Spark Dating Rumours**  
Petyr Baelish for ViswayNow  
July 5th, 2019

There've been several hints in the past at a potential romance between the infamous Jaime Lannister and Visway sweetheart Elia Martell, but we may have proof at last that the pair are truly a couple. The two have been sighted together multiple times in the past few weeks in various locations around King’s Landing, and an unnamed source close to the couple has hinted that the two Webb Award winners may finally be ready to go public with their relationship after a few years of keeping things quiet. Jaime Lannister was last paired with Cersei Hill (now Baratheon), but hasn’t had a public relationship in nearly ten years. Elia Martell’s last relationship was with her ex-husband Rhaegar Targaryen, with whom she shares two children.

***

“Baelish thinks he finally has proof that we’re together,” Jaime says into the phone as the cab crawls through the crowded streets of King’s Landing, a broad grin spreading across his face. “His latest _unnamed source_ believes we’re about to go public with it this time, too.”

On the other end of the line, Elia Martell bursts out laughing, and Jaime finally releases his own suppressed laughter at the sound. “Oh, gods. He really doesn’t give up, does he?”

“There’s really nothing to say to his claims anymore,” he admits, shrugging a little as the cab finally reaches the Theatre District. “He’s the sort of person who takes a denial and assumes it’s a confirmation, and anyone who knows us is already aware of how blatantly false his claims are. All we can do is have a good laugh at his expense whenever he starts spewing his ridiculous theories.”

“At least he’s pairing me with you this time,” Elia replies, her laughter subsiding, though he knows she’s smiling as widely as he is. “He keeps hinting that Rhaegar and I are going to get back together as well, which is so much worse.”

Jaime laughs again and shakes his head. “Glad to know I land above Rhaegar Targaryen on the scale of shitty men. It’s utterly idiotic of him to make those claims, though. Anyone with half a brain can tell you’ll never forgive your ex-husband for what he did to you.”

“Why should I? If he really wanted me to return to him, he’d start by apologizing, something I highly doubt he even knows how to do. And on top of that, he keeps calling me complaining that Rhaenys and Aegon won’t speak to him, as if it’s my fault and not because he basically walked out of their lives after our divorce and only recently remembered they exist. Honestly, I don’t know how I stayed married to him for as long as I did.”

“You’re certainly stronger than I would have been,” Jaime says, nodding to the cab driver as the vehicle pulls to a stop outside Sunspear Theatre and he gets out to pay. “Anyway, I’m here now so I have to go, but I’ll see you at the reading in about an hour, I guess? I heard a rumour from the director that you might be taking the morning off from _Alysanne_ to come visit us.”

“You heard correctly,” Elia agrees, and he can easily imagine the sly grin she’s wearing as she speaks. “I’ve got to seize the chance to harass my brothers while I still have time to. Best of luck until then!”

She hangs up with a click, and he walks into the theatre while tucking his phone into his pocket. Most of the other cast members have already assembled for the reading and stand in small groups chatting quietly while Oberyn sets up chairs on the stage and argues with Willas about seating arrangements. Arys Oakheart nods to Jaime as he joins their group, making certain to avoid Brienne Tarth after the awkwardness of their interaction at the first reading. He might try and talk to her later, though, to see if he can make amends for whatever past slight has made her hate him so much.

Ronnet Connington is orating about some performance he gave years back, his smug tone making his eminently punchable face appear even more punchable as he prattles on and on. Jaime rolls his eyes and turns to Arys instead, tuning Connington out.

“Hey, Oakheart,” he says, causing Arys to turn to him with a relieved look. “How’ve you been? I don’t think I’ve seen you since we did _Once_ together.”

“I’m doing well, actually,” Arys replies as they step away from Connington’s audience to talk by themselves. “This is my second show with the Martells, and I have to admit that coming here was the best decision I ever made. They’re a good company.”

“Much better than my father, then?”

Arys shoots him an assessing glance before relaxing. “Not to be rude about it, but yeah. By a long shot.”

Jaime nods, clapping his hand on the other man’s shoulder briefly. “I’m glad to hear that. I wish I’d moved on from his company a long time ago.”

“Don’t we all,” Arys mutters with a grimace. “Listen, I know I had no involvement in any of it, but I’m sorry for what the producers did to you on that show after your accident. It wasn’t fair of them to fire you like that, especially when they had no way of knowing how bad things really were. If I’d known beforehand, I would have argued against it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jaime tells him with a sad smile. “Like you said, you weren’t involved in that decision, and I highly doubt my father would have listened to a random ensemble member if you had tried to say something. Besides, you’re not working for him anymore, and that tells me more than anything you might have said back then.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I stayed there after all that,” Arys admits, his eyes downcast. “I’m still disappointed in myself for working with them as long as I did. But enough depressing talk for now. I should probably go. I promised I’d get coffee for everyone before we get into this, and who knows how long that’ll take?”

Jaime leans back and raises an eyebrow. “For _everyone_? I sure hope you have a plan of action for that, because I don’t envy you that task at _all_.”

“It’s just gonna be basic black coffee,” Arys explains, though he’s shaking his head with a rueful grin on his face. “I’m not foolish enough to try and juggle that many different orders at once. Though only the gods know how I’m going to carry all that. I may have to resort to balancing a tray on my head and hoping I don’t trip on something.”

“Are you telling me you’re walking with all that?”

“Oh, gods no! I may have stupidly volunteered to do a coffee run by myself, but I’m gonna take my car with me when I do. I should head off, though, before the lack of caffeine starts getting to people.”

“Good luck with that,” Jaime calls as Arys retreats before turning back to the stage. Connington is _still_ blathering on, which means joining most of the ensemble is out, and he doesn’t dare approach Tarth unless he absolutely has to after what happened at the reading, so he can’t talk to his fellow leads either. 

Before he can decide where to go, Oberyn catches his eye and beckons him over with a sharp gesture. “I just wanted to check in with you,” he says once Jaime comes to a halt beside him. “It’s been two years since you were last on stage, and this show is going to be much more demanding than _Once_ was. If there’s anything you feel you aren’t able to handle, let me know and we’ll come up with an alternate solution.”

Jaime can’t help but laugh, despite the reaction not being at all appropriate. “I really did make the right call, coming here. My father would never have offered something like that to any of his employees.”

Oberyn shakes his head, looking amused. “It’s always good to hear I’m better than Tywin Lannister at something. The gods know theatre critics don’t agree that often.”

“Oh, please,” Jaime growls, rolling his eyes. “Don’t listen to those fuckwits. My father couldn’t have pulled off directing _Aegon_ , and my Uncle Kevan couldn’t have done it either. And if either of them had tried, it wouldn’t have been a fraction of the hit your directing made it into. The only theatre critic whose opinion I trust is Varys, and even he’s made a few odd calls in the past.”

“Speaking of untrustworthy critics, I hear you’ve finally gotten together with my sister.”

Jaime reels backwards for a second until he catches sight of Oberyn’s grin. “Don’t _do that_ to me! For a moment I thought you were being serious.”

The director laughs loudly at Jaime’s reaction. “Nah, I’m kidding. Elia would have told me about something like that, and I don’t think she’s much your type anyways.”

“And how exactly do you know my type well enough to make that kind of claim?”

“I know the sort of people you’ve been paired with in the past, even if you’ve never acknowledged those pairings in public. And I saw the way you looked at Brienne when she yelled at you the other day, too.”

“I barely _know_ her, Oberyn. Besides, she hates me, for what sounds like good reason.”

Oberyn grins again and claps Jaime on the shoulder. “True, but the chemistry you two have together is already marvellous. It’s much better than what I had to work with in Riverrun. Although it would be nice if you could figure out whatever it is you have that makes her dislike you so much—besides the obvious, of course—and resolve it.”

“Oh, that’s _real_ kind of you.” 

“Jaime, you should know by now that my sister is the kind one in this family, not me.” Oberyn pauses and glances toward the house at that, causing Jaime to turn to see as well. “Speaking of which, look who just arrived.”

Elia smiles broad and warm as both Jaime and Oberyn wave to her, hurrying over to the edge of the stage to greet her as they do. “I had to go see my ex-husband this morning, so it’s nice to know someone’s glad to see me walk in. I know I just spoke to you, Jaime, but how have you been, Oberyn?”

Oberyn spreads his hands in a wide gesture that encompasses the entire stage around them. “Well, you know how this stage of production is. No one knows what they’re doing yet, the entire creative team is running around in circles trying to get everything organized, and at least one cast member has already gotten into multiple fights. It’s fantastic. Makes me jealous to see my sister’s taken a morning off so she can come harass me.”

“Don’t pretend you’d trade it for anything,” his sister tells him with a laugh, shoving his shoulder when he sends her an affronted look. “You love the chaos of this life. Though, can I ask who that one cast member is?”

“Fucking Connington,” Oberyn growls, shaking his head. “Not Jon, Jon’s been lovely—though he’s a sound designer, not an actor, so it couldn’t be him anyways. But his cousin is one of the worst people I’ve ever had the misfortune of working with, and I had to work with Robert Baratheon once.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised that Connington’s an asshole,” Jaime says with a heavy sigh. “My father likes him, which is never a good thing to hear about anyone. And though I’ve never had the ill luck to work with him myself, the stories about him definitely _don’t_ paint him in a favourable light. I’m surprised you guys kept him around after Riverrun, especially with all the shit I heard about his antics.”

“Unfortunately, Connington’s not as stupid as he looks,” Oberyn mutters with another quick shake of his head. “We couldn’t ever catch him being truly malicious or doing anything that would’ve given us grounds to fire him, and he wanted to stick with the show so we couldn’t get away with replacing him in between productions like we did for our leads. Actors’ Equity does incredible work to protect performers, but sometimes I wish they were just a little less stringent about things.”

“That sucks,” Jaime says, a deep frown creasing his face. “You shouldn’t need to catch him in the act in order to prove he’s impacting the cast’s sense of security if you already know he’s causing problems. You’re right about Jon being much nicer, though. I think you said he’s doing sound for this show?”

Oberyn nods, shooting a quick look at his sister. “He is, yes. If I recall correctly, my nephew’ll be helping him out as well.”

Jaime turns to Elia with a raised eyebrow, and she smiles in response. “Aegon’s been working with Jon for a couple years now to help pay for university, since he doesn’t want to take any of his father’s money. They’ll both be working on _Moulin Rouge!_ together.”

“Good for Aegon.” He can’t blame Elia’s children for wanting nothing to do with their father. Rhaegar Targaryen might be incredibly handsome and successful, but anyone who knows him personally is well aware that outward appearances mean absolutely nothing when it comes to his level of decency and respect for others. That particular lesson is one Jaime’s had to learn far too many times by now.

“It’s an excellent opportunity for him, and he’s really enjoying it,” Elia tells them both, taking a seat in front of the stage and smiling a little sadly. “Although I think the only reason Jon reached out to me to take him on is because he still feels bad for turning a blind eye to Rhaegar’s actions the whole time I was married to him.”

Jaime shrugs at the same time as Oberyn, and Elia laughs at them both. “Love’s a funny thing,” he says once her laughter dies down. “It can blind you to a person’s faults if you’re not careful and allow it to grow obsessive. We both know that all too well.”

“At least Jon’s trying to make up for it, though,” Oberyn points out. “Most of Rhaegar’s other friends still seem to be defending him even though _everyone_ knows he was in the wrong.”

“Which is why I don’t speak to them anymore,” Elia says, before making a shooing gesture with her hand. “Go on, both of you. The coffee’s arrived, and I imagine it won’t take long for the reading to begin after that.”

Jaime sends his friend one last smile before heading back to join the other cast and creatives as they gather around Arys, who has indeed returned with coffee for everyone, though he’s unfortunately taken the logical route and made several trips while bringing it all in. Which is a shame. He’d been hoping to watch as Arys tried to carry everything at once. 

Margaery passes Jaime a steaming cup, along with a wink and a sugar packet, as he loiters around the edge of the crowd of people surrounding Arys, and he smiles gratefully at her, seizing them both with eager hands. 

“I hope you still take your coffee the same way,” she tells him as they step away from everyone else. “I’m not going back in there to get more sugar or any milk.”

“No, this is good. Thanks for getting it for me. I didn’t fancy plunging into that mess at all.”

She laughs loudly, her own cup gripped tightly in both hands. “The perils of working in the theatre industry. We all need coffee to survive the long days of rehearsals and tech and shows, and will resort to violence if we can’t get our hands on it through any safer method.”

“Not everyone,” Jaime mutters, shaking his head as a memory pops up. “When I worked with Stannis Baratheon on _Company_ , I only ever saw him drink tea. It wasn’t even _caffeinated_ tea. How the man functions, I’ll never understand.”

Margaery grins and takes a sip of coffee. “Stannis doesn’t really count, though. He’s the sort of person who’s never had a cup of coffee in his life.”

“He’s still a damn good director, though,” Willas adds, coming over to join them after making his own quick escape from the hoard of coffee-craving actors and creatives. “Just look at his revival of _Company_ , or his current production of _Jagged Little Pill_ over at Storm’s End. What he chooses to drink doesn’t seem to make a difference, even though every other director on Visway would be quicker to kill for coffee than the most exhausted dancer.”

“You sound like you’d like to work with Stannis sometime,” Jaime says with a grin. “Not that I blame you. He’s a tad too uptight for us to mesh well, but I still wouldn’t be half as well-known for my performance in _Company_ if it weren’t for his directing. We’re pretty fortunate to have such phenomenal directors on Visway these days.”

Willas nods eagerly. “I mean, we have Stannis, Oberyn, Catelyn Stark, even old Jeor Mormont. I would throw Kevan Lannister in there but he’s still working for his brother so he can’t really be considered that good.”

“Kevan’s definitely not my favourite family member,” Jaime agrees with a quick shake of his head. “I don’t know if he plays a role in my father’s shadier business deals, but his continued loyalty to my father despite everyone else turning against them both tells me he has _something_ to hide.”

“Who _is_ your favourite family member, anyways?” Margaery asks him with a far-too-innocent smile. “I’m curious, since I would never make that kind of statement about my own family.”

“Oh, you definitely have a favourite,” Willas grumbles with a brisk shake of his head. “And I know for a fact it’s not me.”

She sends him the same faux-innocent smile, but Jaime speaks up before the siblings can come to blows. “My Aunt Genna will always be the best of us, or at least the only relative I can actually tolerate these days. Uncle Gerion wasn’t bad either, but I haven’t seen him for almost twenty years so I have no idea if that still holds true. I used to be my father’s favourite for some unfathomable reason, but leaving his company behind hasn’t done much to endear me to any of my family, immediate or extended.”

“Family,” Willas says, shooting a glare at Margaery as he does. “You can never truly win with them, can you?”

His sister turns to Jaime with a glint in her eyes that makes him groan. “You can’t win with Petyr Baelish either, or so I hear. Did you see his latest about you and Elia?”

Jaime groans again, and both Tyrell siblings laugh. “Gods save me from that man. I don’t know where he gets his ideas from, and I don’t understand how I can possibly have that much time in my life. I mean, according to him I’m dating Elia Martell, but I’m also getting back together with Cersei, all while dating Lysa Tully _and_ having an illicit affair with Catelyn Stark on the side. And somehow, I manage to balance all that and my career, as if anyone has that many hours in a day. If I ever meet Baelish in person, I’m going to punch him in the face.”

Margaery laughs again at his tirade, taking another sip of her coffee once she settles. “Temper, temper, Jaime. What would your therapist say about that?”

“My therapist would say that anger issues aren’t my problem nearly as much as they’re your other brother’s,” he shoots back. “Although Loras seems to have calmed down quite a bit recently.”

“He finally gained some of the maturity he was lacking,” Willas says with a rueful smile. “Not sure what did it, but I’m not complaining. I’d love to stay and chat more, but I’ve gotta go help Oberyn corral everyone before we begin. The script will be finalized after this reading, which means we have one more reading before moving into the rehearsal rooms. Best of luck to you both!”

“I can’t wait for him to finalize the script,” Margaery mutters as her brother moves away to join Oberyn and Doran further down the stage. “I know he’s my brother and I’m contractually obligated to make fun of him, but he’s been working much too hard lately. He needs to rest.”

“So should we,” Jaime points out, nodding towards the half-begun sets spread across both the stage and the wings. “We’re going to be slammed once rehearsals start up in earnest, and with this much interest already, the pressure’s going to be insanely high. Not as high as the pressure on _Aegon_ , of course, but still high by Visway standards.”

She shakes her head with a rueful smile. “Never ask Arianne about the rehearsals for that show. Ever. She can go on for hours about how stressful those days were.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Margaery looks like she’s about to speak again, but Oberyn whistles sharply and cuts all conversation off. “Alright!” he shouts once all eyes turn in his direction. “Places, everyone! Let’s begin the last reading of _Moulin Rouge!,_ or at least the last one before we send Willas off to finalize the scripts. I think everyone’s been kept waiting on this one for long enough.”

***

 **What’s On Visway This Season**  
Meera Reed for Backstage Visway Podcast

New Productions:

 _Moulin Rouge!_ at Sunspear Theatre. This gender-swapped adaptation of the beloved movie stars Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth in the leading roles under the direction of Webb-winning Oberyn Martell. Featuring the choreography of renowned choreographer Ellaria Sand and the backing power of Arianne Martell and Margaery Tyrell, the production will begin previews in about four months and has already amassed an eager following of movie fans delighted to see the production reach Visway at long last.

 _Six_ at Dragonstone Theatre. Prominent young director/producer Daenerys Targaryen is finally stepping out of the shadow cast by her father and eldest brother to helm this fan-favourite production, currently a month away from beginning previews. After a phenomenal run over in Meereen, the long-awaited Visway run is already sold out two months in advance, so be prepared to wait if you want to see this one.

 _West Side Story_ at Casterly Theatre. The latest revival of this classic show stars Cersei Baratheon and Jorah Mormont in a highly controversial production that’s already had several calls to boycott it due to the lack of Dornish representation in a show primarily about the Dornish people. Helmed by Kevan Lannister, this production begins previews in a little more than five months and still has plenty of tickets available for anyone wishing to get in early before Tywin Lannister is forced to permanently close another of his theatres.

 _Company_ at Winterfell Theatre. Director Catelyn Stark leads this revival of the Olenna Tyrell classic, starring Robert Baratheon in a casting choice widely derided by critics. Currently in previews, this show has received mixed reviews but is generally considered to be quite good if you completely disregard the leading man. Seriously, what was Ned Stark thinking?

 _Alysanne_ at Olenna Tyrell Theatre. Telling the story of Westeros’s most beloved queen, this Jeor Mormont-helmed production has already received rave reviews while still in previews. Starring Elia Martell in the titular role, the production is widely considered to be a marvellous show even if not Mormont’s best from a technical standpoint. Tickets are going fast, so be sure to get in soon for this one!

 _Jagged Little Pill_ at Storm’s End Theatre. Stannis Baratheon takes on this jukebox musical based on the songs of Alannys Harlaw in the theatre’s first production since Daenerys Targaryen took it over last year. Currently in its first week of performances, this production is being ranked among Baratheon’s best since the _Company_ revival that won him immense acclaim years back. 

_Taena_ at Visway Theatre. This musical follows the real-life story of rock queen Taena Merryweather, from her humble beginnings to her rise to stardom and her later comeback after some time away from the spotlight. Featuring Alayaya Mo as the titular character, the show is expected to begin previews in six months and is predicted to make a splash right before the Webb nomination deadline passes. Tickets aren’t yet on sale, but be sure to get them when they appear!

 _The Harlaw Trilogy_ at Pyke Theatre. This three-part play was the source of considerable turmoil earlier this year when Euron Greyjoy beat out all three of his brothers for the role of director, and the production has not grown any less fraught since. In its first month on Visway, there have already been three interrupted performances, and critical reviews have remained low among rumours of erratic behaviour behind the scenes by the director. Most critics agree this one is better left alone.

Returning Productions:

 _Aegon_ at Starfall Theatre. The smash hit musical continues its record-breaking Visway run, with tickets still sold out until next year. If you can get tickets, then lucky you, because Visway’s current hot ticket is unlikely to be ousted from its position as the ruler of the box office any time soon, even with the OVC long moved on to other endeavours. 

_The Phantom of the Opera_ at Lannisport Theatre. Visway’s longest running show isn’t looking too good in the box office at present, with Randyll Tarly’s staging changes falling flat for both critics and audiences. The iconic Jon Arryn musical is in no danger of dying out anytime soon, but perhaps the original staging was best left alone.

 _Strangertown_ at Highgarden Theatre. Last year’s Webb winner for Best Musical is still going strong, and none of the OVC have shown any inclination to move on from this one just yet. While not able to defeat _Aegon’s_ box office record, the show has been on a high in ticket sales for the past month, so be sure to get in quickly before they’re all gone!

 _Dear Edwyn Umber_ at Riverrun Theatre. Catch Jon Snow in this production for a limited time only, as the Webb winning musical continues its successful Visway run for another year. Ticket sales have dropped over the past few months, meaning now’s the best time to get in if you haven’t seen this one yet.

 _Sunspear_ at Frey Theatre. This Visway classic is back for another season at Frey Theatre, and is holding fairly steady with audiences in spite of the recent dangerous rumours surrounding the Frey family. However, the shadiness of the producing family is no reason not to enjoy a couple hours with the criminally good cast of this particular show.

 _Wicked_ at Oldtown Theatre. The hit musical continues to perform well almost fifteen years after it opened on Visway. Anniversary celebrations later this year mean tickets are rather scarce, but it’s very much a must-see even all these years later.

 _Come From Away_ at the Water Gardens. Continuing to delight audiences and melt the hearts of even the coldest reviewer—looking at you, Petyr Baelish—this production remains high up on most people’s lists of shows you can’t miss. Although the original cast is finally beginning to move on, the show’s quality has not waned in the slightest, and it’s expected to remain on Visway for a good long while.

 _Book of R’hllor_ at Ashemark Theatre. This musical comedy has earned quite a bit of controversy as of late due to what many view to be its one-dimensional portrayal of Sothoryi people, though this has done little to decrease the enthusiasm of many fans. It seems to be a more personal matter than the above _West Side Story_ controversy, so we’ll let audiences decide this particular matter for themselves. 

_Allaquo_ at Duncan Tall Theatre. The stage adaptation of the beloved Tully film continues to dazzle as it ventures into another season on Visway ahead of the premier of the live-action film later this year. This show’s an excellent family-friendly production for those with young children unwilling to risk any of the less sanitized shows on Visway, or who are hoping for some nostalgia for their own childhoods.

 _The Lion King_ at The Eyrie Theatre. The Tully powerhouse musical returns for yet another season on Visway and continues to draw young and old alike. Ticket sales are booming after the release of the live-action film earlier this year, so get into this one while you can still find tickets!

 _Mean Maidens_ at Greywater Theatre. The musical adaptation of the beloved movie is back for another season, and continues to delight audiences with its throwbacks to the original film and changes (for the better) to the script. Even if you’re not familiar with the movie, this is one to come see!

 _To Kill a Mockingbird_ at Godsgrace Theatre. The powerful play adaptation of the iconic book continues its extended run with a new cast, though one that’s no less talented than the original cast that earned it eight Webb nominations. This one’s a must-see for both lovers of the book and those completely unfamiliar with it, as its lessons are sadly still relevant today, all these years later.

 _Ain’t Too Proud_ at Old Wyk Theatre. The bio-musical telling the story of music group The Temptations continues its Visway run with just as much enthusiasm as before, and continues to earn shining reviews from critics and audiences. Ticket sales have dipped slightly, meaning now’s the time to get in before someone else snaps them up!

 _Azor Ahai and the Cursed Child_ at Harrenhal Theatre. The rather controversial theatrical continuation to the bestselling _Azor Ahai_ series returns for a third season on Visway and has continued to shine at the box office despite the writer’s recent unpleasantness. If you’d prefer not to support her after all this, then this play definitely isn’t the hot ticket for you, and I wouldn’t blame you for it.

***

“I’m so glad we only have one more reading after this,” Asha tells Brienne as the cast and audience stand and begin milling about the stage area, chatting in small groups before they inevitably disperse. “It’s so awkward to just sit there reading from the script. I always hated that part of TV work more than anything else.”

“Is that why you left it to return to the stage?” Brienne asks, nodding to Obara Sand as she comes over to join the two of them as they stand just outside of the wings. “I know people were wondering, since the network clearly wanted to keep you around.”

“That’s part of it,” Asha agrees. “The other part of it was the whole fiasco with my uncles and the direction for _The Harlaw Trilogy_ , which was drawing attention I really didn’t want to have on me. Doing TV work made me recognizable enough that I couldn’t avoid it like I might have previously, and I decided a stage role was a good way to get out of the spotlight without completely leaving acting behind. Besides, I’d been wanting to return to Visway for a while, and this opportunity popped up at exactly the right time.”

“It was the same for me,” Obara says, nodding her head towards Asha. “My role was starting to get stagnant, and when contract renegotiations came up I decided enough was enough. Uncle Doran called me up for this show not long after that, so it all worked out perfectly.”

Brienne nods, carefully absorbing their words. She’s never done TV work before, though she knows most actors try to make a name for themselves in television before they try to make it big on Visway. There are exceptions, of course—Jaime Lannister being among the most notable—but very few people are lucky enough to establish themselves and their careers on the stage first. “Interesting. I didn’t know that.”

“How about you?” Asha asks, turning to Brienne. “You’ve been mainly doing behind-the-scenes stuff with the Starks for years. Why’d you finally decide to come into the spotlight after all this time?”

“It was always my dream to sing on stage,” Brienne admits, surprised she’s comfortable enough to be so honest. Normally, she’d have kept something like this to herself until she knew the cast a little better, but her castmates have been so welcoming, and she’s spent enough time running in stagehand circles to have heard numerous reports confirming that they’re—mostly—a great group. “But I’m well aware that I’m not what most casting directors are looking for, and my father is always hesitant about casting me because he’s afraid he’ll get accused of nepotism. The Starks made me a fairly decent offer, so I took them up on it thinking it was the closest I’d ever get to being on the Visway stage.”

“But you’re here now,” Obara says slowly, “which means something changed. And I know for a fact you left the Starks behind _before_ Uncle Doran approached you for this show.”

Brienne nods. “True. I got tired, I guess? I was doing the same thing over and over again and never really got any credit for it or any extra benefits due to experience. I don’t think I was treated poorly there—I’ve worked with Randyll Tarly before, so I know the difference—but I didn’t want to keep doing so much work without getting _something_ in return. So I left them behind and was looking into some Off-Visway roles, and then Doran called and I decided to go for it. What did I have to lose by taking that chance?”

“Well, I for one am glad you did,” Obara tells her, clapping her firmly on the shoulder. “Our Cyrenna in Riverrun wasn’t half as good as you are, and she had more than twice the experience you do.”

Brienne flushes red and ducks her head, shying away from the praise. “You’re too kind. I still have a lot to learn about performing on Visway.”

“We have time,” Asha says with a shrug. “And besides, people with less experience have won Webbs before. We were all new once, even the greats like Elia Martell and Arthur Dayne.”

“Speaking of Aunt Elia,” Obara says, glancing around, “I heard she might be coming by to watch the reading? I didn’t see her anywhere, though.”

“She was here,” Asha offers, “though I don’t know if she still is. I saw her talking to Oberyn and Jaime before the reading began, and I know she spoke to Doran for a bit right after, but I haven’t seen her for the last ten or so minutes so she might have left already. She does have her own show to get back to.”

“Why would she want to talk to _Jaime Lannister_?” Brienne wonders aloud, rolling her eyes. “The man’s a self-obsessed asshole, and the theater industry would be better off without him. She’s a lovely, kind person, not the sort I ever thought would get along with someone like _him_.”

“Jaime’s not bad once you get used to him,” Obara says, a deep furrow appearing between her brows at Brienne’s words. “Sure, he’s an asshole, but he’s the _fun_ kind of asshole, or at least he is now. And he’s actually _really_ talented. Some people think his father’s been funding his entire career, but he’d already be a producer by now if that were the case, and he certainly wouldn’t be working with us. His father would never let his son do something like that.”

“Tywin Lannister _hates_ the Martells,” Asha explains when Brienne frowns in confusion. “He’s apparently furious that Jaime’s come to work with them. Mind you, he’s furious about a lot of things lately, what with Daenerys Targaryen taking over all his theatres once they go under.”

“Gossiping about my father again?” a male voice interjects, and Brienne whirls around to see Jaime Lannister himself grinning broadly at them. “If so, can I join in? It’s nice to finally be surrounded by people who hate him as much as I do.”

“But—he’s your _father_ ,” Brienne splutters, vaguely aware that she’s gaping at him but too startled to care. “Shouldn’t you want to support him or stand up for him?”

He shoots her an unreadable look before shaking his head slowly. “He’s a piece of absolute shit, both as a parent and as a human being. My biggest regret is that I didn’t walk away from him sooner and that I let family ties win out over my conscience for so long. Well, that and letting my personal issues turn me into an absolute asshole for a full two years.”

Asha grins, her teeth flashing white beneath the lights of the stage. “Excellent. Maybe one day we can meet up for coffee and bitch about our shitty fathers together. Might as well call up Samwell Tarly while we’re at it and make it a club.”

“The club of terrible fathers?” Obara asks, a hand clapped over her mouth as she tries to stifle her laughter. “Enjoy yourselves, I guess. I’m going to go see if I can find my aunt and spend some time appreciating the fact that _my_ father’s lovely and cares for us deeply.”

“No need to show off!” Lannister calls after her, grinning broadly when she flips him off while walking away. Brienne rolls her eyes and is about to turn away too when he steps in her path, his remaining hand extended towards her. 

“Listen,” he says, perfectly polite and composed, “I think we got off on the wrong foot last time. I know you hate me because of my behaviour on _Company_ , but I’d like to think I really have changed since then, and I’m hoping we can at the very least learn to tolerate each other’s presence.”

She stares down at his outstretched hand for a moment, unable to think of a response. “Why?” she says at last, glancing up to meet his gaze. “I thought we already established that we can perform fine without getting along.”

He flinches slightly, looking down. “I’d like to at least be friendly with the people I work with. It’s much more comfortable than being tabloid fodder all the time. I’ve done that enough in my career already.”

She rolls her eyes again and turns away. “Whatever, Lannister. Do you honestly expect me to believe you’ve changed based on word of mouth alone?”

He nods, though something pained flashes in his bright green eyes at her words. “I suppose I deserved that. But I really do think that I’ve learned from my past mistakes. You don’t have to give me a chance if you don’t want to, but I’d rather not spend a year or more working with someone who hates me.”

Is he _serious_? Asha seems to think so, from the pointed looks she keeps sending Brienne, but Brienne can’t honestly believe that the cruel, cold-eyed man she first encountered ten years ago is really any different now that he’s single and short a right hand. Too many people have come back into her life years later claiming to have changed, only to treat her with all the same cruelty as before. Maybe Jaime Lannister will be the one exception to the rule, but it’s all the more likely that he won’t be. And she’s not going to take that kind of risk, not after she’s been burned so many times by the same trick.

She’s made that mistake before, with Ronnet Connington, when she let herself believe his repeated insistence that _I’m better than I was in high school, just give me a chance to prove it to you,_ only to be burned even worse than before. Everyone around her had been telling her the same things then, that she was being too defensive, that he really had learned his lesson, that he wouldn’t hurt her again. And she wants to believe her new castmates, and they probably think what they’re saying is true, but they’re also connected to powerful theatre-owning families, or are beautiful people who’ve never been singled out by cruel people trying to prey on their insecurities. How many of them have really seen Lannister at his worst, and how has that warped their view of him now, so that they’re convinced he’s different? They’d said that about Ronnet too, after all.

And Lannister himself, well, his words had cut her badly enough already. She’d been so proud of herself back then, so hopeful that her experience had prepared her to take the next step in her career—until Jaime Lannister had looked her up and down before turning away with a derisive sneer on his face, demanding they fetch him someone else instead, someone _who actually knows what they’re doing and isn’t just fumbling about blindly on their first big job_. For years afterwards, she’d heard his voice in her head every time she’d auditioned for a role, taken on another backstage position, had it pounding in the back of her head as a constant reminder that no matter how much experience she had, how much work she put in, she’d never be considered ‘good enough’ by the theatre industry, and especially not by people like him.

The worst part is that it probably doesn’t matter to him. Their few interactions on _Company_ likely weren’t enough to derail his day, let alone haunt him for years afterwards. She’d be shocked to hear he even remembered her from back then. To him, she’d been nothing more than a lowly _assistant_ stage manager, one who he could look at, find the weaknesses of so he could pick at them, and then leave smarting and furious and hurt in the middle of the hallway.

“Just drop it,” she tells him sharply, and he reels backwards with a hurt look on his face. “There’s no need to pretend you care about me when I already know you don’t. Like I said before, we don’t need to like each other in order to perform well together, so stop trying to be friendly and leave well enough alone. I think you’ve already done enough damage during your career, anyways.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he says, his tone brittle and angry as he takes a step away from her. “You’re bringing Aerys into this? I thought you said he deserved what happened to him!”

She shrugs, more callously than she meant to. “Well, you did ruin his career. I won’t deny that he deserved it, but no one on Visway can forget what you did, and there’s no guarantee that you won’t do it again to someone far less deserving of that fate.”

He doesn’t say anything when she turns and walks away without waiting to see how he reacts, but Asha runs over to join her immediately. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit unfair? He’s really not that bad anymore. If you just gave him a chance…”

“I’m tired of giving people chances after they claim they’ve changed and then being bitterly disappointed,” Brienne snaps, shaking her head. “I have no reason to believe he’s any different than everyone else I’ve met who said they were different and then kept on mocking me like they did before, as if that wasn’t one of the problems I had with their behaviour.”

Asha’s still frowning, but she doesn’t say anything else. Which is good, because Brienne’s in no mood to explain exactly why she’s so defensive, so unwilling to have faith in everyone who’s told her Jaime Lannister isn’t the man he was before. She wants to believe them, she really does. But she can’t forget her experience while working on _Passing Strange_ , either. She can’t forget how she’d believed her fellow stagehands, only to have them turn on her when she learned they were wrong.

Now that she’s walked away, though, there’s a slight pang of guilt settling in her chest. Lannister may be a prick, but exposing Aerys Targaryen’s cruelties to the world was decidedly _not_ his worst deed, and it feels hypocritical to push him away for being an asshole in the past by resorting to unnecessarily nasty words to protect herself from whatever cruelties he might have in store for her. No matter what her feelings on Jaime Lannister might be, there’s no denying that he did the right thing when it came to that situation, and he’s shown no inclination to repeat the event in his twenty-year career since then, despite what she’d said in her parting blow. 

She stops short all of a sudden when Ronnet Connington steps into her path—which is horribly apt, since she was just thinking of cruelties the world has in store—grinning in that nasty way she recalls all too well from high school and later on, when they were working under Randyll Tarly together. “Brienne Tarth,” he says slowly, letting every word curl off his tongue and hang in the air between them. “I see you’ve started playing with the grown-ups now.”

“Fuck off, Connington,” Asha growls, shoving past him with a fierce glare. Brienne stays frozen, however, unable to move as the memories flood back in. She’d hoped to avoid him for as much of the show’s run, but apparently her luck’s only been enough to last her to the second reading.

He looks her up and down with callous appraisal, a nasty smirk creeping across his face. “And look at that. You’re still as ugly as ever. Was Doran Martell temporarily blind when you came in to audition? Or were you just that good of a fuck that you convinced him to cast you?”

Her hands clench into fists, and her face is burning, but she refuses to answer. She won’t play his game. She _won’t_. 

She doesn’t need to respond, though, because Oberyn stalks over and interrupts them in a smooth, steady tone that terrifies her more than anything Ronnet might say or do. “Are you implying what I think you are, Connington? You do realize how dangerous throwing around such accusations is, don’t you?”

Ronnet laughs loudly, rolling his eyes. “And what exactly are you going to do about it? Fire me? If you didn’t after Riverrun, you’re definitely not going to do so now. You Dornish won’t be able to do shit without people like me supporting you.”

Oberyn raises an eyebrow calmly, a cool smile creeping across his face. “Is that so?”

Ronnet blanches at the director’s even tone, and Brienne feels a sense of satisfaction rising up in her as she studies the fear on his face. “You won’t fire me,” he says, his tone far less confident than it had been moments earlier. “You _need_ me.”

“No, we don’t,” Oberyn replies evenly, smiling at Ronnet in a manner that doesn’t meet his eyes at all. “And I will not permit you to remain a part of this cast if you are going to insult one of my leads like that, along with myself and the entire rest of my family.”

“Nor will I,” Doran adds, wheeling his chair over to join them while Arianne hovers at his shoulder. “So I would recommend you leave, Connington, as you are officially no longer a member of this cast by the producer’s authority—which just so happens to be my authority.”

“You can’t _do_ this!” Ronnet yells, backing towards the wings as he speaks. “I’ll sue! I’ll…”

He collides with Lannister before he can go any further, and Brienne bites her tongue to stifle a groan while bracing herself for her co-lead to turn his own cruel tongue on the Martell brothers in support of Ronnet. But Jaime merely raises an eyebrow at Ronnet and smiles, cold and sharp as a knife’s blade, and Ronnet blanches and races out of the room before anything more can be said.

“Asshole,” Oberyn mutters as soon as he’s gone, before dropping his false smile and turning to Brienne with a frown. “Are you alright? He said some awful things to you there before I could stop him.”

“I’m fine,” Brienne says, and she realizes with a start that she really is fine. Ronnet Connington is part of her past, and he’s hurt her before, but he’s also been stuck in a limbo for all that time, unable to grow past childish insults that she’s already heard before. The worst words have come from casting directors looking at her with condescending smiles— _I’m afraid you’re just not what we’re looking for right now, dear_ —not from petty men like Ronnet who still think the same insults they threw at her in high school are the pinnacle of cutting comments. “He’s an asshole, and what he says really doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Oberyn tells her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, “but you shouldn’t have to endure people saying that to you, and I like to think we pride ourselves on protecting our employees. Don’t we, Doran?”

Doran nods, and Oberyn turns back to her with a kind smile. “And don’t bother thanking me for that, I’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of him since early on in the Riverrun production. If anything, I should be thanking you for giving me the opportunity to do so, since I was finally able to catch him being abusive to his castmates rather than just arguing with them.”

“Still, thank you anyway,” she tells them both. “Though, I feel like I should make sure you’re alright as well. He wasn’t kind to you either, and I’m sorry you had to deal with his hatred just because you stepped in to help me.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” Oberyn says with a grim smile, before shaking his head briskly. “And you’re not at fault here, but thank you anyways. But you’re right, his words shouldn’t matter, and let’s not waste our time letting him get to us. He won’t be able to hurt us again after this.”

She nods and smiles shyly as the crowd that gathered to watch Connington’s firing slowly disperses. Very rarely has she seen a director as eager as Oberyn is to stamp out harassment. When she’d worked for the Starks, they’d largely turned a blind eye or told the cast to deal with it themselves, which never seemed to work as well as they wanted it to, and in the regrettable time she’d spent working under Randyll Tarly, he’d actively encouraged any harassment of the women working behind the scenes due to his ridiculously antiquated belief that they were meant to be a pretty face or a mother, nothing more. The Martells and their willingness to actually deal with the situation are a refreshing break from the blasé attitude so much of the theatre industry has adopted towards these issues—though, she supposes, they’re Dornish, and have faced a great deal of harassment because of it. They’d understand better than most how terrible it feels.

As she turns to grab her bag before leaving, she passes by Lannister, who glances at her quickly before turning away without saying anything, and for a moment her guilt about snapping at him earlier resurfaces. But then she remembers his disdainful looks and condescending words the handful of times she’d dared to speak to him while working on _Company_ — _run along now, little girl_ —and the feeling passes. 

Still, he hadn’t defended Connington as she’d thought he would, and Asha seemed to genuinely believe he’d changed. Plus he’s here working with the Martells rather than with his father in a betrayal of the ‘family loyalty’ creed that runs through half the theatre industry. The Lannister family in particular sticks to that code, more so than any other long-standing theatre family Brienne knows of. And she’s spent enough time running in backstage circles to have heard horror stories about Tywin Lannister, and how those who work with him spend so much time turning a blind eye to his cruelties. If his son is deliberately choosing not to work with him, can she consider that a sign he doesn’t approve of his father’s actions?

“I’m thinking about this too much,” she mutters, finally grabbing her bag and nodding to Asha and Arianne before leaving the theatre. As she told him earlier, she doesn’t have to like Jaime Lannister in order to work with him, and she has no reason to be concerned about who he does or doesn’t support.

He’s bound to let her down if she gets her hopes up, anyways. The big-name stars like him always do. And she refuses to let him be her next Renly Baratheon—even if he is infuriatingly handsome, more so than Renly ever was.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , she tells herself. This is a job, just like any of her stage managing roles were jobs. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter that she actually likes her castmates, or that she has to deal with an obnoxiously hot asshole of a co-lead, or that Oberyn and Doran Martell actually stood up for her instead of letting it happen or telling her an ugly woman like herself should be grateful Connington hadn’t been worse—Tarly’s words, not her own. All that she can focus on is the next day at work, at bettering herself as an actress, and none of her costars can be allowed to interfere with her attention on pursuing her dreams of gracing the Visway stage at long last. 

***

 **Ronnet Connington to Depart _Moulin Rouge!_**  
Robert Arryn for visway.com  
News July 5th, 2019

Actor Ronnet Connington, best known for his appearances in _Book of R’hllor_ and _Newsies_ , announced this afternoon that he would be departing from the Visway production of _Moulin Rouge!_ for reasons left unspecified. Connington was slated to reprise his role as Nyles from the Riverrun production of the show despite rumours of clashes between himself and other cast members, along with widespread disdain for his performance. His replacement has yet to be announced, although reliable sources suggest Addam Marbrand, recently returned to Visway after spending two years with the East End production of _Jeynes,_ is under consideration for the role. 

_Moulin Rouge!_ is currently in its final stages of preparing for Visway and will be beginning rehearsals within the next week, making Connington’s abrupt departure extremely odd. Even odder was the fact that Connington had no comments to make regarding his departure, although director Oberyn Martell cited "irreconcilable artistic differences” when asked. 

_Moulin Rouge!_ is slated to open at Sunspear Theatre in three and a half months, and will be playing until at least the end of the year in an open-ended run. Ronnet Connington’s next move after his departure from the show remains unclear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, Elia Martell's position and status on Visway is similar to that of [Audra McDonald](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audra_McDonald) in real life. she's the most awarded actor on Broadway with six (!) Tony awards and is the only person to win Tonys in all four acting categories. Elia's award and acting history is (loosely) based on hers.
> 
> again, every show mentioned in this fic is based on or is a real show. that means all the shows mentioned in the second article are either currently on broadway (although they're not performing at present) or would be on broadway if covid wasn't, you know. a thing. the theatre names are entirely my own invention, however, although there are a few that take inspiration from the names of real theatres. it's also worth noting that not every theatre is putting on shows at once (there's some theatres that are 'dark', or aren't currently occupied by a show), and I did skip out on a few shows currently running because I was running out of possible theatre names. these are kind of the big ones, though.
> 
> if you're confused about the Tully mention in the same article, the Tullys are basically the equivalents of the Disneys I this universe. there is an actual reason for this (besides I-forgot-the-tullys-were-a-family-until-i-needed-a-disney-equivalent), but it's fairly long and not worth extending this author's note even more.
> 
> in real life, theatres are owned by corporations, who (usually) don't also act as producers. for simplicity's sake, I've made a handful of families theatre owners who also produce shows. the families also have a lot of actors/directors/whatever other role I need them to fill, rather than just doing one thing, again for simplicity's sake. the big theatre-owning families in this story are the Starks, the Lannisters, the Martells, the Greyjoys, and the Targaryens (sort of). the Baratheons used to be a producing family but have since been bought out and are now actors/directors.
> 
> I also forgot to mention this last time, but a lot of shows don't open directly on broadway, and will instead do 'test' runs of a sort somewhere else. _Moulin Rouge!_ did its first run in Boston, which in this fic turned into Riverrun. in real life, there weren't very many casting changes between the two runs.
> 
> we have (sadly) not seen the last of Ronnet Connington in this fic. he'll be gone for a while, though, which is good because then I don't have to write such a garbage human being for a while.
> 
> next time: a new cast member arrives, an accord is reached, and the gossip machine is fired up.


	3. Final Reading/Picture Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime hasn’t spent much time thinking about who might replace Ronnet Connington between the second reading and the final one that takes place four days later. It’s not until he walks into the theatre and catches sight of a tall, lean man with red hair and a warm grin talking to Margaery that he even recalls Connington _needs_ to be replaced, and by then he’s already racing across the room to throw his arms around his old friend who laughs and returns the gesture while a bemused Margaery looks on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in a truly miraculous turn of events, this chapter actually got shorter when I edited it and not longer. 
> 
> please note the rating change! it doesn't apply to anything in this chapter, but I finally finalized my outline and this fic _is_ eventually going to contain smut! not anytime soon, because these two have a long way to go before getting to that point, but I'm changing the rating now so that you're warned about that in advance. the rating might go up again because I haven't written that far yet and don't know what it'll look like, but this is where it's gonna be at for now.
> 
> a few warnings for this chapter: there's a few brief implications of past abusive relationships, and near the end of the chapter a character makes a few comments that are pretty sexist. other than that, there's nothing else to worry about in this one (I think).
> 
> also, having finalized my outline means I can share the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2JALIOQPX3opPVjiFzbdAb) for this fic! I don't think any of the songs on here are super spoilery, since they're mainly songs I enjoy that fit the overall vibe of a certain part of a chapter or all of it. 
> 
> once again, thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this one! and I can also be found on

_That could be me, that could be me  
Doin’ things like Clara  
Flirtin' madly, looking dreamy  
These are things you take a chance for…  
-Picture Show, Bonnie & Clyde_

**These Visway ‘Friends’ May be Closer Than You Think**  
Raven News Celebrity  
January 26th, 2015

It seems Jaime Lannister of Visway infamy and his fellow theatre star Addam Marbrand have been spending a great deal of time together lately, including several appearances together at restaurants known to be frequented by celebrity and Visway couples. The two men claim they’re “just friends,” but is it possible that there’s something more between them, and if so why are they trying so hard to hide it? Jaime Lannister’s last relationship was with Cersei Baratheon (formerly Hill), which explosively ended right before he won his first Webb Award. Addam Marbrand was last paired with Dacey Mormont, though they never publicly announced a relationship.

***

Jaime hasn’t spent much time thinking about who might replace Ronnet Connington between the second reading and the final one that takes place four days later. It’s not until he walks into the theatre and catches sight of a tall, lean man with red hair and a warm grin talking to Margaery that he even recalls Connington _needs_ to be replaced, and by then he’s already racing across the room to throw his arms around his old friend who laughs and returns the gesture while a bemused Margaery looks on.

“Gods, it’s good to see you again,” Addam Marbrand tells him, pulling back to better study him. “You look good! Much better than you did last time I saw you.”

“Last time you saw me I’d just had my hand cut off, of course I wasn’t looking my best,” Jaime says, shoving his friend lightly before they both laugh again. “How have you been? The East End treat you well?”

“It did,” Addam replies, nodding to Margaery as she slips off to go greet some of their other castmates. “I’m glad to be back in Westeros, though, and glad to see you’ve returned to the stage. I was worried you wouldn’t come back after the whole…you know.”

“The hand thing?” Jaime raises his right arm, ending in a stump where his hand once was. He’s not wearing his prosthesis today, but Addam doesn’t blink at the brutal scarring or the clear absence of a limb that’s often made other people cringe backwards. “I thought about it, but I love this work too much to leave it for very long. It was all a matter of waiting for the right opportunity, and this ended up being it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Addam says quietly, with all the inordinate fondness Jaime remembers from before. “I…I worried, especially when I got the offer to go to Essos that I really couldn’t refuse, not unless I wanted to miss out on one of the best opportunities of my career.”

Jaime lets his remaining hand rest on Addam’s shoulder, lowering his stump so it rests at his side. “Don’t worry about it. You would have regretted not taking that role, and I managed alright, didn’t I?”

“I’m allowed to worry about my ex-boyfriend, am I not?” Addam slings his own arm around Jaime’s shoulders and they begin to walk towards where the rest of the cast has gathered near the middle of the room. “I know it’s been years since all that, but we’re still friends, and I still care about you.”

“That makes you a thousand times more valuable to me than my other ex, then. Gods know she couldn’t be bothered to check on me after I lost my fucking hand.”

Addam frowns deeply, looking infuriated on Jaime’s behalf. “And you were together how long again?”

“Eight years,” Jaime mutters, shaking his head. “I spent eight years chasing her around, begging for scraps of her affection, and got humiliatingly dumped for it. What a waste of my time that was. At least Brienne Tarth told me to my face that she doesn’t like me, instead of gossiping behind my back and pretending to be friendly whenever I confront her.”

“Wait,” Addam says, glancing between Jaime and the rest of the cast with a furrowed brow. “What does your co-lead have to do with any of this?”

“She hates me.”

Addam looks hard at him for a moment before he bursts out laughing, which makes Jaime scowl at him. “Oh gods, you like her, don’t you?”

Jaime’s scowl deepens. “I do _not_.”

“Jaime, you’ve always cared too much what other people think of you, but even more so if you actually like the person judging you. Take Ned Stark. You didn’t shut up about him for an age during that weird time when he hated you, and then you confessed your desire to fuck him when you got absolutely plastered that one time at a cast party, and it all made sense.”

“Shut _up_.”

Addam’s still laughing as Jaime stomps away, determined to ignore his friend’s insinuations. He does _not_ like Brienne Tarth. She hates him, and he wasted enough time dealing with someone who hates him back when he was dating Cersei. It doesn’t matter that she has the most captivating blue eyes, or that she’s tall and strong and could _definitely_ take him down if she wanted to. He refuses to spend more time trying to win people over when there’s no chance of them changing their minds.

Which is why he’s baffled when Brienne steps in front of him, her hands clasped in front of her and her face bright red as she shoots a glare at Obara, who’s giving her a pointed look from where she’s standing across the room. “Hey,” she says awkwardly, shuffling her feet and not adding anything else.

“Hey,” he replies, raising an eyebrow when her flush deepens and she remains silent. “You come to yell at me again? Tell me I can never move past the kid who ruined Aerys Targaryen, so why bother trying? Because if so, save it. I can talk to my father if I want to hear that shit.”

“No!” she yelps as he’s about to brush past her. “I…I came to apologize, actually. That wasn’t fair of me to bring up Targaryen, no matter what my other feelings about you are, and I shouldn’t have stooped to that. I thought I was better than that, and…I’m sorry.”

He’s momentarily caught off guard by her words. _No one_ has apologized to him for flinging Aerys at him before, whether it was deserved or not. “Apology accepted, I guess. You know you didn’t have to do this, right? People say that to me all the time. It doesn’t bother me all that much anymore.”

That’s a lie, of course, but she doesn’t need to know that, doesn’t need to see the vulnerability that his father and Cersei hated so much about him. Besides, he’d like to think he’s past the point of spilling his deepest secrets to people who hate him. It’s never a good habit to get into.

“Really?” she asks, looking baffled. “But Aerys Targaryen was an awful person. Why do people hate you for exposing the truth about his actions?”

“I didn’t do it the right way,” he tells her, before wondering why he’s admitting this. Had he not just resolved to stop telling his secrets to those who despise him? “I should have gone to another producer, or the police, or really done anything other than go to the press and spill the beans. It doesn’t matter that none of the other things were options, or that doing so would have delayed an investigation for years and let Aerys hurt even more people in the meantime. I didn’t go through the proper channels, so my actions aren’t acceptable no matter how justified they were.”

Brienne’s eyes go wide. “That’s ridiculous. There are plenty of valid reasons to hate you, but that’s not one of them.”

“Why do _you_ hate me, then?”

She blanches, glancing away rather than meeting his eyes. “I…I…”

“I know you do,” he says with a heaving sigh. “You haven’t kept how you felt about me secret, and while you’ve just told me it’s not Aerys I still don’t know what it is I did that makes you so disgusted by my very presence. I know you worked on _Company_ , and that we apparently had a few run-ins during that production, but I’m still not sure what I actually did that hurt you so badly.”

She draws in a sharp breath and meets his gaze with blazing blue eyes. “Of course you don’t remember. I was just a lowly _assistant_ stage manager, and you made it pretty clear to me exactly how little you thought of that. I’m not surprised to hear none of that mattered to you at all”

“No, it didn’t,” he admits with a grimace, “and I don’t know if that makes me more or less of an asshole. But I know who I was back then, and it’s not a major stretch of my imagination to picture what I might have said to you. I imagine it was some pathetic jibe about your appearance, or if I was feeling particularly vindictive, something belittling you for not already being a highly successful star actor like I was at your age.”

“The first one, not so much,” Brienne says with a shallow nod, her brows knit together. “But the second one…”

She trails off, and he winces, inwardly cursing his past self for the thousandth time since he lost his hand. “I’m sorry. You did nothing to deserve any of that, and there’s really no defending how I was back then.”

“Why?” she asks softly after a moment. “Why did you feel the need…”

“To be an absolute prick?” he finishes, and she nods again. “I knew Cersei was going to break up with me, but I didn’t want to admit that the relationship I’d invested eight years of my life into was crumbling to pieces, so I took my fear and hurt out on everyone around me and pretended that justified my shitty behaviour. I know it’s no excuse, but at the time that’s what I thought.”

She nods again, and perhaps he’s imagining it, but he could swear something in her posture eases. “Well, at least you’re not trying to make excuses for your actions.”

He can’t help but laugh, despite knowing it’s the exact wrong reaction to have. “It’d be hard for me to when I’ve spent most of the ten years since regretting it. But I’m sorry for how I was back then, if it counts for anything. Self-pity and desperation is no excuse for behaving the way I did, and it’s taken years of therapy to teach me otherwise. If I’m honest, I should have apologized to you the minute you told me you’d been on _Company_ , so I’m sorry for that, too. No matter how defensive I was feeling about the matter, that doesn’t make the fact that it took me this long okay.”

“It does,” she says, looking a little shell-shocked at the revelation. “Count for something, I mean. The last time I reconnected with someone who’d been cruel to me in the past, they never bothered to apologize, which should have been my first hint that they hadn’t really changed at all. It seems therapy’s helped you out a lot.”

“It has,” he agrees. “With more than just that, too. It took losing my hand for me to really think about things and decide to fully change, but even back then I didn’t like who I was, who I was becoming. It was far too like my father for my taste. And whatever I may have said about your talent or experience back then, know that it was wrong. My words were coming from a desire to see other people hurting the same way I was, and nothing I said back then should be counted as true because of that.”

Brienne smiles at him, tentative but genuine, and he’s briefly struck by how lovely the expression is. “I’m glad to hear you’re making an effort. The Starks seem to think you’re just another diva hoping to steal all the attention for yourself by having some drama every two years or so, and that your father’s been paying for you to get as many roles as you have, but the readings kind of disproved the second one to me, and this conversation is making me doubt the first one too.”

“Ned Stark _still_ hates me? I thought we were past all that.”

She shrugs a little. “I don’t know if he _hates_ you. To be honest, I think he’s a little jealous? I know he wanted to go into acting before his brother died and he had to take over the company, and he’s always been a bit bitter that you got to perform on stage and he didn’t. Or at least, that’s what Catelyn said when I asked her about it.”

Jaime nods slowly, turning that information over in his mind. “I see. I’d like to think I got to where I am on my own talent, but it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“You definitely did,” she says, before flushing bright red. “I…all I meant is that you were very good, when we did the first two readings. Better than I thought you were going to be.”

He laughs at her embarrassed reaction, and this time she doesn’t seem offended by his response. “You were good, too. Margaery told me you were, of course, but I didn’t really believe it until I actually saw you perform. That sounds awful of me, I know, but I also heard Robert Baratheon was a good performer before I met him so I have to be careful about word-of-mouth assumptions.”

“Who told you _Robert Baratheon_ was a good performer?” Brienne scoffs, and this time they both laugh. “I saw him perform once, and it was the only time I felt that I wasted money on theatre tickets.”

“I wish I remember, honestly. Stannis told me his brother was ‘very talented’ once, but he was definitely joking. Which is a rare thing for Stannis to do, but it _was_ right after Petyr Baelish released that one weirdly glowing review that Twitter laughed at for days on end, so I think he just couldn’t resist the urge to say so any longer.”

Brienne shakes her head, her lips curling up ever so slightly. “That was such a weird review, but it’s Baelish. We all know he’s not a trustworthy source. If he’s right, you have the weirdest dating life of anyone I’ve ever met, and my father’s been hooking up with a new woman every two weeks. Which might have been true when I was younger, but he’s been with his current partner for going on six years now, so it’s definitely not the case anymore.”

“He also thinks I’m going to get back together with Cersei,” he mutters, shaking his head. “And you couldn’t pay me to do that now.”

Brienne nods and doesn’t inquire any further, which he’s oddly grateful for. His relationship with Cersei is one of those things he doesn’t talk about the details of with anyone besides his therapist and occasionally Addam, on the rare occasions he’s comfortable bringing it up with his friend. Those occasions have grown more common as time passes, but it’s still not something he’s willing to freely discuss.

“Are you two done?” Oberyn calls, startling them both. “We do need to get started soon, and I still have to introduce our newest member of the cast.”

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Brienne replies before Jaime can open his mouth. She turns to him immediately after with a rueful grin, extending her left hand. “Listen, I know I said we don’t need to get along to work together, but I _would_ prefer to at least be friendly with the person playing my on-stage love interest, and I think we might be able to get along now that we’ve cleared the air a little.”

He takes her hand and shakes it. “I have no objections to that. And, for the record, I’m glad we managed to get past that, because it would be _unbearably_ awkward to pretend to fall in love while really hating each other.”

“That’s how the best love stories begin, though,” she says, smiling smugly enough that he’s not fully certain how serious she’s being. “Or have you never seen a romcom before?”

“I have _so_.”

She bursts out laughing at his defensiveness, and he folds his arms across his chest and looks at her sulkily. “Stop _laughing_ at me. I was just saying that I’ve worked with people who hate me before and it’s always terribly awkward because we’re not in a movie and the whole fake-dating thing doesn’t work very well in real life.”

“Maybe you’ve just been fake-dating the wrong people,” she says before laughing again when he pulls an affronted expression. “Come on, let’s go join the others before Oberyn gets irritated that he has to keep calling for us.”

“Oberyn’s not really the type to do that,” Jaime explains as they make their way across the room to meet up with the rest of the cast. “He’ll be mildly annoyed with you, yes, but he’s certainly no Randyll Tarly, who’s _ridiculously_ meticulous about call times.”

Brienne wrinkles her nose and frowns. “Ugh, Tarly’s the _worst_. I had to work with him once on one of the first Visway shows I stage managed, and he was an absolute nightmare.”

“It’s why my father loves him so much. He doesn’t need to bully everyone into submission himself when he can get Tarly to do it for him. His kids turned out great, though, which is weird.”

Oberyn’s been dragged into a conversation with Addam and Obara, so they still have a few minutes to chat once they join the other cast members in their loose circle in the middle of the stage. Brienne keeps shooting nervous looks at Addam, and he’s about to frown at her until he remembers Connington and his sneering insults.

“You know Connington’s replacement, right?” she asks him in a low voice, and he nods. “I figured you did, since you seemed so excited to see him earlier. He’s…he’s not like his predecessor, is he?”

“No, Addam’s great,” Jaime tells her, and she smiles in relief. “I’ve known him since…gods, I think we became friends back in high school, actually. He’s a fantastic guy and an invaluable friend. I’ve been incredibly lucky to have him in my life.”

The look Brienne gives him is searching enough that he thinks some of his leftover fondness from the time he and Addam were together bled into his words, but once again she doesn’t press, and he doesn’t offer her any more information. “That’s good to hear,” she says after a moment, some of the tension easing from her posture. “I didn’t expect him to be, but I’ve learned from experience that you never know who will be cruel and who won’t be. Except when it comes to casting directors, of course.”

“I take it you’ve had a lot of bad experiences with them,” Jaime says, and he’s not surprised when she nods. She’s not exactly the type of conventionally attractive young star Visway likes to parade about, even though appearances really don’t matter in massive theatres like Oldtown, where the back rows can barely even see the stage, and shouldn’t matter at all because aren’t they all supposed to be cast on talent, not looks or how much money their parents have? 

“That’s putting it mildly,” she mutters, shaking her head. “The number of times I’ve been told I’m _just not what we’re looking for right now_ is abysmally high. It’s a pathetic excuse that basically means I’m not a pretty face, so they don’t want to cast me, but they also can’t admit it because that gives me grounds to sue them for discrimination.”

He shakes his head, abruptly furious on her behalf. “That’s bullshit. At least have the decency to say what you really mean if you’re going to pick and choose people based on such arbitrary criteria. I watched you perform at the readings, and I’ve seen for myself how good you are. You should have had a career on stage long before now.”

She flushes and ducks her head, but he sees the flash of her smile before it fades. “The theatre industry gets away with this sort of thing all the time though. It’s not as mainstream as the film and TV industries are, and with the occasional exception of shows like _Aegon_ it rarely has a major cultural impact. That particular brand of bullshit flies under the radar much more easily than it would on a film or TV set.”

“You’d be surprised,” he tells her, a little bitterly. “I don’t do much screen work, but there are people here who can tell you horror stories about the shit that goes down behind the scenes, particularly on big industry sets like those for Tully films. Not that their stage stuff is any better in that regard, though.”

“The industry’s corrupt everywhere,” she says with another quick shake of her head. “At least the Martells are trying to combat it—though they’ve also faced so much of the industry’s worst themselves that I shouldn’t be surprised by it.”

“It’s awful, some of the things people say to them. I’ve been friends with Elia for ages, and if you heard some of the shit people said to her during her divorce…”

“I still can’t believe how many people sided with Rhaegar Targaryen,” Brienne says angrily, her eyes flashing, and she immediately shoots up several notches on his ladder of esteem. “He _cheated_ on her. With a _teenager_. And people still thought he was on the right side of that whole mess?”

“You and me both,” he grumbles. “Oberyn gets way less of it nowadays because his Stranger-may-care attitude makes him way less of an exciting target for those assholes, but poor Elia still gets hate mail from Rhaegar fans who think…well, it’s never been fully clear what they think, but it’s certainly not favourable to her.”

She scowls fiercely at that, and he’s inordinately relieved it’s not directed at him this time. “People really are the worst sometimes, aren’t they?”

“They are,” he agrees quietly. “But there’s always the great people too, the young fans who’ve just seen their first show and can’t believe what they’re seeing and are practically vibrating in excitement when you meet them at the stage door, or the lovely people who send art they’ve done of sets or costumes or performers, or the sweet old lady I met on the sidewalk the other day who congratulated me on getting back onto the stage after my accident. It almost makes it worth enduring the assholes—though I tend to feel much differently when the assholes are being particularly vocal and irritating on Twitter.”

Brienne inclines her head, looking thoughtful, and she’s about to say something in response when Oberyn clears his throat loudly, catching everyone’s attention and silencing all conversation.

“Attention, everyone!” he calls as all eyes swivel towards him. “Gather your scripts and take a seat, because the reading is about to begin.”

***

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
just saw this article about roncon leaving the moulin rouge production on visway (link: _visway.com/ronnet-connington-to-depart-moulin-rouge_ )

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
 _Replying to @ishereinsidemymind_  
weird that he’s leaving at such a late stage of production. also weird that he wouldn’t say why (irreconcilable artistic differences explains nothing sry oberyn)

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
don’t really wanna be speculating too much about this bc it could be for personal reasons he doesn’t want to share, but roncon’s also a known asshole and a lot of people were shocked he stayed on after the Riverrun production ended

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
but it’s def weird that he’s leaving now, and that there’s no reason for leaving stated (also that oberyn martell was trolling so much when asked even tho that response is kinda hilarious)

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
anyways just wondering about that and I’m not saying anything for certain but there’s def gotta be a reason why roncon left the production and I highly doubt he chose to himself bc let’s be real, the guy’s an a-hole and the industry’s better off w/out him

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
even tho he’s the sort of guy who thinks he’s the gods’ gift to humanity bc some fool told him so when he was young and he never failed enough/suffered enough consequences in his youth to realize otherwise and i know this isn’t really important but it’s why i hate him

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
but also addam marbrand replacing him is awesome and I’m way more hyped to see this show now than I was when casting was first announced bc at least marbrand can act and perform well and also he’s hot

 **the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
I’d say roncon’s only here bc he’s got a rich daddy but his dad isn’t actually that wealthy so tl;dr, who knows why he got as far as he has. definitely not me but I don’t give a shit anyways

***

Margaery Tyrell has spent enough years working in the theatre industry to know it’s best to keep whatever secrets you can as closely hidden as possible if you want to avoid being the subject of relentless backstage gossip. Not that she dislikes gossip on principle—in fact, she’s been accused of enjoying it _too_ much before—but she likes it more when she’s not the subject of the gossip. Which, she supposes, is a pretty common feeling, but spending enough time on one particular side of the conversation has made it especially difficult for her to deal with.

Luckily enough, it doesn’t seem as if she’ll have to on this particular occasion.

Over the years, she’s learned that every show has at least one big _thing_ that everyone talks about backstage and reminisces on whenever they meet up later on. In this case, she has a feeling it’s going to relate to the two leads, who began the day at odds with each other and have somehow ended up on what she’d tentatively describe as friendly terms in the span of a few short hours.

“Lannister and Tarth have been talking for a long time,” she points out to Arianne Martell after the reading ends, when they’re all packing up but still mainly standing around chatting because they’re not fully certain if Oberyn is completely finished with them yet. “Which is especially odd when you consider that she yelled at him the one time they spoke at the reading a few days ago.”

Arianne nods, tilting her head to the side. “Obara did make her go apologize for flinging Aerys Targaryen at him, so that might have helped. But they just kept talking after that, which I suppose means they’re getting along? Not that I’m complaining, though. Dealing with leads who hate each other fucking _sucks_.”

Margaery nods slowly, eyeing the two stars as they continue chatting, both leaning towards the other as they laugh about something Jaime’s just said. “They’d make a great couple, wouldn’t they? Tall and blond and strong, and he _clearly_ is into her.”

“I wouldn’t put much store in his ability to recognize that,” Arianne says with a snort. “He’s not very good at handling his emotions, Jaime Lannister. Not at all.”

Margaery nods again, lost in thought as she continues to study the pair still laughing across the room. “I wonder what’ll happen with them? We work in such close proximity for so long when doing these shows. What do you think are the odds they’ll resist the temptation of each other?”

Arianne dips her head for a moment before frowning thoughtfully. “I’d say not good at all, based on the way they already look at each other. If they’re not together by the Webb Awards, I’ll be absolutely baffled.”

“I don’t think they’re infatuated quite yet,” Margaery murmurs. “But she’s certainly not immune to his good looks, and he’s been looking ready to kiss her since she snapped at him the very first day of readings. Which is an odd reaction to being told off, but people like what they like, I guess.”

“Gossiping again?” Asha asks, slinging her arms around both their shoulders as she strides up to join them. “Can I take part as well, or is this off-limits to the rebellious daughters of asshole Greyjoys?”

“That’s a very specific group for us to exclude,” Arianne says with a laugh. “Of course you’re welcome to join in. We’re just theorizing about our two leads and what might end up happening between them. I’d put money on them being together before the Webbs, but I’m curious as to what you think?”

“You’d put money on it, huh?” Margaery asks, baring her teeth in the sharp grin she uses to terrorize her brothers constantly. “That’s good to hear, because I was thinking of starting a betting pool as to when they’re going to get together.”

Asha grins and tosses her head at that. “Better make sure those two don’t find out about it before they’ve gotten together, then. It’ll only be funny _after_ the fact, not during the pining stages.”

Arianne frowns, looking dubious as she glances between Margaery and Asha. “I don’t know. It’d be fun for the rest of us, but they might not feel the same way. People don’t always like being the subject of such speculation, and I feel like these two might be particularly sensitive about it.”

“We don’t have to actually put money down,” Margaery says instantly. “That seems kind of creepy, and would make me pretty uncomfortable even if the intentions were good. We can just speculate on it and keep track of everyone’s guesses. And there’s gotta be ground rules, too. No one’s allowed to be rude about it, and no sexual suggestions allowed—no matter how tempting the thought may be. If we don’t make this into something skeevy, the odds of them being offended by it are far lower. Also no one’s allowed to force things or try to manipulate it so they get together. That takes the fun out of it for everyone else, and if it turns out we interfered in their personal affairs they’re _definitely_ not going to be cool with it.”

“Yeah,” Asha adds with a quick shake of her head. “That sounds pretty reasonable. Winner gets bragging rights? Which doesn’t seem like much of a prize, but we’re a pretty competitive bunch. Being the one to most closely predict when our leads end up getting together sounds like something that’s going to be held over everyone else for _years_.”

“So you see it too?”

All three of them turn in surprise as the newest addition to the cast, Addam Marbrand, comes loping over with an easy grin. He dips his head towards them when they all straighten into slightly defensive stances before glancing over at Jaime with such gentle affection that Margaery wonders if there’s something going on between them for an instant. “I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one. I pointed it out to that boring-looking ensemble guy, and he looked at me like I’d lost my wits.”

“Wait,” Arianne asks, looking between Addam and the corner of the room where most of the ensemble has gathered. “Which one’s the boring one again?”

“Kyle Bunt or something like that,” Addam says with a frown. “Wait. I think it might have been Punt? Or maybe Hunt? Not a very memorable guy, at any rate. And he’s supposed to be one of Jaime’s understudies, too.”

Margaery frowns at the ensemble as well, but none of them seem boring enough to be the man Addam’s describing. Unless her gaze is completely skipping over him, which would mean he’s supremely dull indeed. “Let’s pray he never gets sent on, then, because I try to actually pay attention to the ensemble—unlike some other stars I’m sure we could name—and I cannot for the life of me figure out who you’re talking about.”

Addam squints across the room before shaking his head. “You know what? I can’t figure out which one he is, either. And I was the one who spoke to him.”

Asha bursts out laughing at that, shaking her head and grinning broadly. “Well, Kyle Bunt or Punt or whatever isn’t our concern right now. What we _should_ be concerned about is figuring out when those two idiots over there are going to fall for each other and be disgustingly sweet because I just _know_ they’d be the sort of couple that’s horrifically in love but you can’t hate them for it because they’re just so _lovely_ and you can’t help but be happy for them. I say he’s going to accidentally confess his love for her first, and he’s probably going to be drunk when he does it. It’s definitely going to be well before the Webbs, though. I won’t argue with Arianne on that one.”

“That’s…very specific,” Addam says, blinking slowly at Asha’s declaration. “But it’s also very on brand for Jaime, so I won’t protest. I say it’s going to be right before the Webbs, though, or maybe even the day of. It would be nice cosmic justice for his getting dumped at the Webbs previously.” He pauses and glances over at Margaery with a furrowed brow. “Are you taking _notes_ on this?”

She has indeed been taking notes on her phone, so she just grins at Addam in response. “Of course I am. How else are we going to keep track of what everyone thinks?”

“Wait, _everyone_?” Arianne asks, her eyebrows shooting upwards “That’s a lot of people, Marg.”

Margaery just smiles and lifts her phone slightly, urging them to continue speculating. She’s leaning towards something happening around two months before Visway’s biggest night, but they won’t have any way of knowing until it actually happens. Though it _will_ be interesting to see what the rest of the cast thinks of the situation. And if anyone else is as ignorant or blind as Runt—Bunt—whatever the hell his name is happens to be.

“I say it’s gonna be about a month before,” Asha argues, while Addam shakes his head. “They can’t leave it to the last minute. That’s a reckless thing to do, even for a Lannister.”

“I know him better than you do,” Addam’s insisting, but Arianne shushes him before he can go on.

“Brienne’s coming over,” she hisses at all of them, her eyes wide. “Act normal!”

Margaery tucks her phone away just in time, as Brienne turns to wave at a departing Jaime before joining them with a broad smile on her face. “Hey, everyone,” she says to them, not seeming to notice their awkward stances and too-wide grins. “What’re you talking about so intently over here?”

“Nothing!” Addam and Asha chorus simultaneously before glaring daggers at each other while Margaery tries and fails to stifle her laughter with her hand. _Gods, we’re so bad at this_.

Arianne tries her best to wipe the slowly growing suspicion off Brienne’s face by adding, “Oh, you know, we were just…debating the odds of…the show doing well at the Webb Awards this year?” It clearly doesn’t work, because the smile’s fully dropped from Brienne’s face and now she’s frowning at them in a way that says she doesn’t believe them at all. Not that Margaery blames her. They’re all terrible liars. Which is mildly concerning, considering their career choices.

“The Webbs are almost a year from now,” Brienne says slowly. “Why are you already speculating about them? Half the shows haven’t even opened yet, including our own.”

“I like to get started early!” Margaery says a little too brightly before inwardly wincing at her own conspicuousness. “On my bet with my grandmother, I mean. We both make predictions for who’s going to win at the Webbs every year, and whoever makes the closest predictions gets the sum of money we’ve both put into it.” The tradition is real, but she doesn’t actually start thinking about it until the nominations come out—not that Brienne needs to know that, of course.

“I see,” Brienne replies, still looking dubious, especially since Addam and Asha are now hissing at each other in low whispers that Margaery can’t quite make out and prays Brienne doesn’t understand either. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. I just wanted to say bye before I head out, and that I’ll see you at rehearsals when they begin after the weekend.”

“Oh gods,” Arianne groans, shaking her head. “Don’t remind me of rehearsals. Please. It’s bad enough I had to deal with Quentyn telling me about his latest sprain in excruciating detail when waiting for things to get started this morning. The thought of rehearsal right now is so much worse.”

“Why would your brother tell you about _that_?” Asha demands, reeling backwards and making Addam sigh in relief. “I’d punch Theon in the jaw if he tried to tell me about his injuries.”

“We were in the same cab, I couldn’t escape,” Arianne explains, looking morose. “If I could have punched him, I would, but the cabbie might have thrown me out and I really didn’t want to walk across Visenya’s Way at that particular hour.”

Brienne shakes her head at them, the smile returning to her face at last. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to. That road is chaos at the best of times, and an absolute nightmare at worst. But anyway, I should get going. I promised my dad I’d have dinner with him before rehearsals start up and I no longer have free time.”

Asha looks after Brienne as she walks away, a delighted grin spreading across her face. “Man, I really wanna be right about her and Lannister so I can hold it over the rest of you, but if he decides to be particularly stupid about things...”

For some reason, Arianne looks offended by the statement. “You better not be gunning for her yourself. I don’t think she’s into you, and I have no desire to find out how much Jaime will mope around if she ends up dating someone else in the cast.”

“Yeah, I’d rather avoid that,” Addam agrees with a quick shake of his head. “Besides, you don’t want to miss out on being able to brag about winning this particular bet. The more people who join in, the more people to lord it over later—which is why we should drag as much of the cast into this as we can, obviously.”

“That’s a low blow, trying to tempt a Greyjoy by bolstering their pride,” Asha tells him, but she’s smiling widely as she turns to Margaery, rubbing her hands together. “So? You in for playing bookkeeper, Tyrell? I know there’s no cash involved, but we could still use your assistance.”

“Oh, am I ever,” Margaery replies, finishing up the last note before putting her phone away and slinging an arm around a startled Addam’s shoulders. “But we’ll rope everyone else in once rehearsals begin. For now, I think it’s time to make sure our newest addition to the cast is settled in properly.”

“I don’t think I like the way that sounds,” Addam mumbles as they move towards the exit, but she ignores him in favour of smiling to herself, delighted at the way things have progressed so far. She hadn’t been worried about the run being _boring_ , precisely, but there’s so rarely good gossip when it comes to a cast that actually gets along, and to know that won’t be the case this time is absolutely marvelous.

She won’t mention any of this to either Jaime or Brienne, of course. They’re flighty types, and knowing that half the cast is going around placing bets on when their fledgling connection is going to develop into something beyond friendship would be more than likely to scare one—or both—of them off. And Margaery’s not cruel enough to do that, not even in her most vindictive moments.

Besides, scaring them off isn’t the point. Where would be the fun in chasing her main source of gossip off before she gets a chance to really enjoy it? The only thing that would achieve is disappointing her grandmother, and Olenna Tyrell is not the sort of woman _anyone_ wants to disappoint.

Perhaps she should bring this up the next time she sees her grandmother, just to see what happens. It wouldn’t hurt to take advantage of such compelling chemistry, and she’s sure her castmates won’t mind her talking them up to one of the most influential composers on Visway ever. 

That will come later, though, once they see how this all plays out. For now, she’s more than happy to watch and wait as their leads circle around each other, closer and closer until they finally collide. There’s no ‘might’ or ‘maybe’ about it. She has never been more certain that an onstage romance will blossom into a backstage one, and she has yet to be wrong about something this important.

Nothing’s set in stone, of course. It would be foolish to presume anything is that simple. But she has faith, and she’s seen how quickly Jaime and Brienne bonded, and she believes with every part of her being that it’ll resolve the way she expects, at some point or another.

And when it does, she hopes with all the fierce desire of an avid gossip lover that she’s fortunate enough to witness at least part of it. 

***

 **Hyle Hunt:** hey

 **Theon Greyjoy:** hey. what's up?

 **Hyle Hunt:** u know brienne tarth right

 **Theon Greyjoy:** no? she’s been friendly w my sis at the readings but i don’t think that qualifies as knowing her

 **Hyle Hunt:** damn i was hoping you could introduce me to her   
**Hyle Hunt:** her dad owns like half the big off-visway theatres. there’s a serious fortune to be had if i persuade her to marry me

 **Theon Greyjoy:** does she even know u? why would she want to marry u? besides she spent half the reading talking to j.lannister there’s no way she’d pick u over him  
 **Theon Greyjoy:** hell I’d pick him over you and blonds are so not my type   
**Theon Greyjoy:** mostly  
 **Theon Greyjoy:** i’d make an exception for lannister

 **Hyle Hunt:** yeah but lannister’s gonna ditch her once he gets a good look at her face u can’t tell me he won’t

 **Theon Greyjoy:** are u fcking kidding me did you SEE the way that man was looking at her  
 **Theon Greyjoy:** they’re gonna be married by the time they leave the show just you wait

 **Hyle Hunt:** don’t quote fucking aegon at me man   
**Hyle Hunt:** besides ur wrong   
**Hyle Hunt:** he’s def not interested in her and she’s not stupid enough to think a guy like that could ever like her  
 **Hyle Hunt:** so i’ll swoop in as the more sensible option and she’ll know she won’t get a better offer ever   
**Hyle Hunt:** OR i’ll come comfort her when he breaks her heart and then i’ll be the hero and she’ll fall for me bc why not  
 **Hyle Hunt:** women like it when men step in to comfort them after they get their hearts broken  
 **Hyle Hunt:** works all the time in movies

 **Theon Greyjoy:** life isn’t the movies man 

**Theon Greyjoy:** besides what do u even have to offer her   
**Theon Grejoy:** didn’t Tarly fire u from ur last ensemble gig bc of how unreliable you were

 **Hyle Hunt:** Tarly’s an asshole  
 **Hyle Hunt:** but whatevs  
 **Hyle Hunt:** it’ll work I’m telling you

 **Theon Greyjoy:** keep dreaming buddy  
 **Theon Greyjoy:** keep dreaming  
 **Theon Greyjoy:** she’s gonna get with lannister and I’m gonna be over here like i told you so when it happens  
 **Theon Greyjoy:** p sure marg tyrell already has a betting pool going on when they’re gonna hook up

 **Hyle Hunt:** stfu what does marg know neways  
 **Hyle Hunt:** she’ll end up w me I guarantee it

 **Theon Greyjoy:** whatever man  
 **Theon Greyjoy:** just don’t come crying to me when it doesn’t work out bc I already warned u bout what’s gonna happen

 **Hyle Hunt:** fuck off u know nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before I ramble, a note on posting: I'm actually around people for the first time in a month, which means I'm not getting as much writing done over the holidays, and so I'm going to be taking a week off from posting. the next chapter is going to come out two weeks from now rather than next week, which is probably not much of a problem because you'll all be enjoying the chillfest fics anyways! I do have the next chapter written, but I don't have as many chapters after that prepared as I normally do, and I'd like to keep the same amount of things pre-written so I don't end up stressing too much about falling behind.
> 
> now, for notes: like I said last time, they wouldn't actually be doing readings at this point. they'd probably be in the middle of rehearsals, but I wanted to establish relationships and background without the distraction of rehearsals, so this is how things are in this story. 
> 
> all the criticisms of the theatre industry expressed in this chapter are my own opinions. broadway tends to get let off more easily when it comes to sexism/racism/discrimination, etc, mainly because it's not as widespread as film and tv and because the shows that do make it big are shows like _Hamilton_ , which has many problems but also is predominantly cast with people of colour and therefore creates the impression that the rest of broadway is like that. this is a lie. it isn't, and while things have gotten better in recent years wrt diversity, it's still a very real problem. but that's not what you're here for, so I won't rant about it any longer.
> 
> I am very proud of the twitter handle used in this chapter. it may be the funniest thing I've come up with for this story. the ironic part is I still know nothing about phantom, but it's widespread enough that I know that reference.
> 
> also Margaery is very proud of what is actually a very bad plan. there's no way this isn't going to backfire on her, but no one needs to tell her that just yet.
> 
> next time: rehearsals begin, our leads continue to talk civilly, and several observations are made.


	4. 3 Months to Opening/Where I Want To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ellaria finally deems them good enough for her to move on to the next group of people she has to torture, Jaime slumps to the ground next to Addam, both laughing at how exhausted the other is. Only a couple days into rehearsal and they’re already being pushed to their limits by their fearsome choreographer—though, Jaime knows, they’ll be grateful for her pushing later, when they’re much better prepared to actually take the stage during tech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand, we're back! hopefully you were able to enjoy the font of delights that was the festive exchange, but now that is over and I have returned to you with a chapter that is much longer than I wanted it to be in this fic's continued quest to be the longest thing I've ever written. this one was a pain in the ass for a good long while, but I think I've succeeded in whipping it into shape so here goes nothing.
> 
> general warnings: a character does make some dudebro-esque comments that veer into mild sexism, and there's some vague discussion of homophobia and ableism near the beginning.
> 
> huge thank you goes to sdwolfpup for betaing this again! also if you want to come yell at me about broadway or this fic or my many poor life choices, I can be found on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) as well. thank you for reading, and enjoy!

_Now I’m where I want to be  
And who I want to be  
And doing what I always said I would  
And yet I feel I haven’t won at all…  
-Where I Want To Be, Chess In Concert_

**Brynden Tully on _Moulin Rouge!_ and Why He’s Glad to See the Film Adapted for Stage**  
Varys for Visway.com  
Q & A July 12th, 2019

If you know theatre, then you know the name Brynden Tully. The black sheep of the family behind the Tully entertainment empire has taken his turn on both stage and screen plenty of times by now, although he’s perhaps best known for his performance as Sebaston, the writer in search of love, in Willas Tyrell’s film _Moulin Rouge!_ With the stage adaptation preparing to grace the Visway stage near the end of this year, he sat down with Visway.com to discuss his turn in the film, its upcoming stage version, and why he can’t wait to see how the story has changed in the years since he took part in it.

 **Were you excited when you first heard the film was being adapted for the stage?**

I was ecstatic, actually! I’d hoped from the early days of making _Moulin Rouge!_ that I’d eventually be able to see it on stage, and while I’m a little disappointed I can’t take part in it myself, but I have plenty of faith in Oberyn Martell, and I’m anxiously awaiting the day it opens so I can finally see it for myself.

**There was initially some controversy surrounding the production when it was revealed they’d be swapping the roles of the leads. Did you ever buy into that?**

No, I didn’t. I was rather surprised at first, since it seemed like a particularly bold choice even for the Martells, but after thinking about it for a bit, it actually made a great deal of sense. And it really doesn’t impact the story in any way, which I know some people were worried about, but I can easily see how they’d pull off the swap without changing any key elements of the story itself. 

**Your role of the writer is now being filled by Brienne Tarth. Have you been able to meet her yet?**

Sadly, I haven’t met Brienne Tarth yet. I’ve heard some very good things about her talent already, however, and I have a feeling she’s destined to do great things on Visway. Her father’s an excellent producer and a good man, and if he’s raised his daughter to be anything like him, then I have a feeling she and I will get along just fine.

**Are you hoping her take on the character will be different than yours?**

Well, the nature of replacing original cast members is to get those different takes on the same character, so yes, I am. And a part of that will come from the swapping of roles as well—there are certain choices I was able to make in my performance she may not be able to make, because they’re putting a woman in that role, and there are choices she’ll make that I never could have made for the exact same reason. I’ve always thought there’s an inherent benefit to seeing the various ways people can play the same character, and I’m eager to see how she pulls it off!

**How important do you consider the film to be to your career?**

I’d say reasonably important? I don’t know if I’d call it the most crucial thing I’ve ever done, but it definitely taught me a lot about the craft, and it was one of those projects where everyone actually enjoyed themselves, which was a delight after spending several years working in my brother’s company and being bored to death because of how dull it was on their film sets. And I’m still mainly known for my role in _Moulin Rouge!_ , so I’ve had a bit of a soft spot for it ever since I did it.

**If there’s any one lesson you took away from _Moulin Rouge!,_ what was it?**

I’d say that sometimes you just need to take the plunge and risk everything in order to try and gain everything. The film was considered an off-chance at best when it came out, and it’s still a beloved classic years later with a stage adaptation in the works. Sebaston takes a huge risk in the film when he decides to love Cyrenna despite the potential consequences, and even though their story ends in a tragedy, he doesn’t regret doing it. At the end of the day, the experience is what matters, and I hope that the people involved in the stage production also remember that it’s not about what you get at the end of it all, but what you gained along the way

***

When Ellaria finally deems them good enough for her to move on to the next group of people she has to torture, Jaime slumps to the ground next to Addam, both laughing at how exhausted the other is. Only a couple days into rehearsal and they’re already being pushed to their limits by their fearsome choreographer—though, Jaime knows, they’ll be grateful for her pushing later, when they’re much better prepared to actually take the stage during tech.

“Gods, I forgot how intense rehearsals are,” Jaime mutters once he catches his breath and is able to turn his attention to Brienne, Asha, and Obara as they run through their part of the opening number. “Two years away from the stage is far too long, it seems.”

Addam grins at him, leaning back on his hands. “People have been away for longer, but they’re often doing film or TV work during that time, so they’re still getting that practice in. _You_ , on the other hand, had to take two years to deal with losing your hand, so the fact that you’re able to keep up with _me_ , who spent the last two years constantly performing over in Essos, is amazing. I don’t think anyone expected you to get back into it quite this quickly.”

Jaime grins a little sheepishly back at his friend. “I never did this for money or fame. I love theatre, and I love performing on the stage, and I’ve been very lucky to be so successful at it, but I also can’t coast by on past victories and hope that’ll be enough. I mean, look at Robert Baratheon. He got one good role years ago and still thinks he’s the gods’ gift to humanity even though he hasn’t done anything of note since.”

“Good mentality to have,” Addam says, nodding sagely, as if he’s some wise old man dispensing knowledge to a young mentee. “Keeps you from becoming like Robert, or his ex-wife. Though I’m still impressed you’ve managed to stay almost entirely on Visway. Most performers can’t afford that.”

Jaime nods, acquiescing the point. It’s true, there are very few Visway performers who are _solely_ seen on the stage. The pay simply isn’t good enough for anyone but a select few stars to be able to make money off of it—and many of those stars also come from the theatre-owning families, and have plenty of money even without working. Jaime didn’t have to spend any of his theatre earnings for years because of that very fact, which is why he’s as well-off as he is now.

“This is going to be such an intense show,” Addam tells him after a while. “Probably not the _most_ intense show that’s ever graced the Visway stage, but it’s much more flash than substance, which means we have to be _good_ if we want to impress the critics.”

“It’s definitely not going to coast by on nostalgia alone,” Jaime agrees, “not with all the changes to the script and the flipped casting. And there’s some pretty big dance stuff—nothing as big as _Newsies_ , but it’s still a lot.”

“Oh gods, don’t remind me of that show,” Addam mutters, shuddering. “I still thank the Seven I turned that role down. I might have died if I had to do all that.”

Jaime laughs at that. “There’s not a lot of roles I’d turn down without thinking twice, but that show’s one of them. I don’t even care who they’d want me to play—though, granted, we’re both too old for it now.”

“And thank the gods for that,” Addam says with a snort. “This show is already pushing the limits of my dancing ability.”

“Hey,” Jaime tells him, nudging Addam with an elbow. “It’s sexy.”

At that, Addam waggles his eyebrows suggestively until they both burst out laughing so loudly that Ellaria whirls on them with a sharp glare. “You telling me you’re still interested then?” Addam asks at last, once they’ve finally caught their breath. “Because I’m flattered, but I’ve already set my sights on Quentyn Martell, and I’m afraid I can only date one hot castmate at a time.”

“No,” Jaime murmurs, his eyes tracking Brienne as she follows Ellaria through a sequence of steps while frowning at her own feet. “We had a good time together, but I think we left that behind years ago.”

Addam pauses, looking oddly nervous for someone Jaime’s used to seeing confident and laughing. “Do you…do you regret it? Us, I mean. I get why you didn’t want to go public, and I don’t blame you for being afraid, but I’ve always wondered…”

“Absolutely not,” Jaime says fiercely before Addam can go on. “I may have been terrified of the backlash and what my father would do to me if he knew, but I don’t regret what we had. I never could.”

His friend smiles cheerfully, trying to pretend he wasn’t genuinely concerned, but Jaime sees the tension bleed out of his shoulders and catches it for the lie it is. “Good. Not that I was really worried about it or anything, but…”

He kicks Addam in the shins and grins when his friend yelps and turns to glare at him. “Don’t lie to me, you imbecile. Did you forget we’ve known each other for years and I learned all your tricks long ago?”

“It _has_ been two years,” Addam says, looking a little sheepish. “I know we’ve been friends for an age, but I still worried how you’d react to my arrival. The human brain is very good at persuading us of things that aren’t really true, it seems. Maybe I _should_ take up your advice to go see a therapist.”

“It can’t hurt,” Jaime tells him softly. “And it absolutely helped me figure out a ton of shit I didn’t even _realize_ had been hurting me, so I highly recommend it.”

Addam nods, though there’s still a shadow behind his eyes. “I was…I worried about you, while I was gone. You looked so hollow and empty when I left, like you’d lost a part of your soul in the accident and not just a part of your body. I’m glad to see you had enough time to heal. You look better than I’ve seen since…well, since Aerys.”

“It’s not enough time,” Jaime says quietly, staring at a stain on the floor beside him. “I’m so much better than I was two years ago, and better than I’ve been since the whole Aerys thing happened. But there are still things I haven’t…I haven’t really dealt with. Our relationship, for one. There was nothing bad about it, and it was probably the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had, but keeping it secret, especially in _this_ industry, that takes a toll. I’m still not sure I know how much that hurt.”

“It’s fucked up,” Addam agrees grimly. “You saw the response to Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell going public, and that was only five years ago. It’s changed since then, I know, but…”

“You’re still afraid.”

“Exactly. I still feel like I have to hide, even though the worst I’ll probably see are a few trolls on the weirnet being assholes about it. I still don’t know if I’ll ever come out to my family, even though I know they’ll be accepting of me.”

“There’s some scars you just don’t heal from,” Jaime supplies, thinking of his father, Cersei, even Tyrion, now run off to Essos and unable to return. “I think we both know that better than most by now.”

Addam tilts his head to the side, a frown crossing his handsome face. “It applies to more than just sexuality, doesn’t it? The Martells probably feel the same way after all the shit they’ve had thrown at them, and I imagine your co-lead has a pretty good inkling of how it feels—though of course, it’s a very different type of hurt she’s had to deal with. She’s not your typical pretty face, and the entertainment industries aren’t too fond of anyone who doesn’t fit the norm.”

“Considering how you ended up getting this role, I’d agree with you on that one,” Jaime says, letting what he hopes is a suitably wry grin cross his face.

“What _did_ happen with Connington? I know he’s been talking some shit lately, claiming he was unjustly removed from the cast, but it’s Connington, so it’s hard to tell what really went down”

Jaime glances over at Brienne, still listening intently to Ellaria as she gives instructions, before turning back to Addam. “He did his usual thing, said something intended to hurt, and was pretty surprised when there ended up being consequences to his actions. The Martells don’t put up with that kind of shit, and anyone with half a brain knows it.”

“Well, that explains a great deal, then,” Addam says with a snort. “He doesn’t have half a brain with which to put that information together. Either that, or he’s been spending too much time working with your father lately, which is equally possible.”

“Oh gods, my fucking _father_. He keeps calling me, you know, telling me if I just come back and do my duty to the family he’ll forgive me. Not sure what I’ve done to need forgiveness besides leaving and this.”

He holds up his right arm—he’s wearing the prosthesis today, but unlike what his father wanted it’s more utilitarian than realistic—and Addam winces, though not at the missing limb. “Shit. He’s really blaming _you_ for that? Were you supposed to, I don’t know, instinctively _know_ about the accident beforehand and somehow stop it?”

“You’ve met him,” Jaime mutters, shaking his head. “You know what he’s like.”

“It’s always a surprise to see the full depths of his terribleness, though,” Addam points out. “I keep thinking I’ve seen the worst of him, and then he pulls something like that and I realize I haven’t. How you managed to live with him for years, I have no idea."

“Neither do I, some days.”

He’s come to realize, lately, that his father’s been the root of more than half his struggles in life, whether because of his Lannisters-first mentality that he did his best to drill into the rest of the family, or because he neglected and emotionally abused his children for years, or because of his myriad other cruelties that Jaime still carries with him to this day. Part of Jaime wonders, some days, if he’s like his father, if he’ll ever be like his father. If he ever was like his father, during the worst of his despair and anger. 

What will he be like if he ever has children? Will he be able to break the cycle his father began, or will he be Tywin Lannister come again, cold and cruel and given a free pass because _at least it’s not worse, at least it’s not Aerys_?

Addam claps a hand on his shoulder suddenly, and he realizes they’ve been sitting in silence for a fair bit now and Ellaria’s finished with another group. “Listen, I’ve gotta head back up there, but we’ll talk again soon, alright?”

He nods, and Addam grins before bounding to his feet and striding over to join Ellaria and the other three men who make up the lead dancers at the nightclub. He’s not left alone with his thoughts for long, though, because Brienne drops to the ground next to him almost as soon as Addam leaves, her face flushed and sweaty but her eyes shining with excitement and delight.

He smiles at her as she sits, and she returns the gesture, their eyes meeting and staying locked together for a long moment before she flushes and turns away while running a hand through her hair. They’ve been talking a lot since the final reading, once he’d finally apologized for his past cruelties; even over the weekend after she’d gotten his phone number from Margaery. He doesn’t know if he’d call them friends just yet, but he’s already much more comfortable around her than he’d ever expected to be. It helps that she’s been so uncritical in the time since their first proper conversation. Perhaps he’s strange for trusting her this much despite the all-too-recent tension between them, but he also actually _likes_ talking to her, and they’ve had some pretty good conversations over the weekend already.

“How are you handling rehearsals so far?” she asks, nodding towards his right arm without a hint of judgement in her eyes. “Being off for two years must have taken a toll, though you look like you handled it pretty well earlier.”

“There’s a lot to relearn,” he agrees with a brisk nod, “but I’m figuring it out, and soon enough this will feel like normal again. How about you? This is a whole different ball game from when you did _Murder Ballad_ Off-Visway. I remember it took me a while to adjust to how different Visway is at first.”

She smiles, a little ruefully, but there’s no hiding the pure joy in her eyes as she does. “It’s harder than I expected, but in a good way. I feel like I’m going to go home and sleep for a solid ten hours, so I’m still getting used to how much work it is. But it’s also so much more fun than I anticipated. I don’t remember rehearsals for _Murder Ballad_ being nearly as enjoyable.”

“Really?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. “I freely admit to not knowing nearly as much about that production as I would have liked, but from what I heard it was generally a good group.”

“The people were fine,” Brienne says, leaning back on her hands and tilting her head up towards the ceiling. “But my dad never really let me forget how much pressure I was under to do well, and that got to me after a while. Oberyn’s been working us hard so far, but he’s also, I don’t know...giving us the chance to enjoy this opportunity? Maybe that’s the wrong phrasing to use, but…”

“No, I get what you mean.” He imagines her experience during her only leading role Off-Visway was quite similar to the one he had doing _Company_ with Stannis Baratheon—a good show, but one where the director never let you forget the often-fickle nature of Visway audiences. “Oberyn’s good at putting people at ease. You’re lucky to have him as director for your first Visway experience—though I warn you, it’s gonna mean your standards are pretty high when you eventually move on to other things.”

There’s a long pause before Brienne speaks again, and he finds himself leaning into her until he catches himself and pulls back. As he does, their shoulders brush against each other, and she jolts back, startled into speaking.

“ _If_ I get the chance to do other things, you mean,” she mumbles, her gaze flicking downwards. “Everyone said I was on a fast track to Visway stardom after I did _Murder Ballad_ , but nothing ended up happening. Most producers aren’t willing to look past my appearance, even after I show them that I have more than enough talent to pull a role off. Having a Visway show under my belt will be a good experience, but I’m not going to get my hopes up only to be let down yet again.”

He shakes his head at that, silently cursing the theatre industry for the thousandth time. It’s a shame that people like Robert Baratheon still get new roles almost every season, while true talents like Brienne are left in the shadows until one of the wiser producing families finally picks up on their potential, years after it should have been recognized and given a chance to shine. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment, blinking slowly as he speaks. “I can’t imagine how disheartening that must have been, to be told you had all this talent and then never see any payoff for it.”

She laughs bitterly at that. “It certainly didn’t do wonders for my self-confidence. Plus I followed that up by stage managing on a show directed by Randyll Tarly for half a year, which...well, you can imagine how that went.”

He winces exaggeratedly, and she laughs again, more genuinely this time. “I don’t think I want to know any more about that particular experience. I only worked with him once, when I was doing _Long Day’s Journey Into Night_ , and that was enough to make me decide I never wanted to work with him again. And this is coming from me, his boss’s son. I dread to think how horrible he might have been to you and the other stagehands.”

“Probably not as nasty as Aerys Targaryen was when you had to work with him,” Brienne murmurs, so quiet he almost doesn’t hear. “That can’t have been a very pleasant first experience on Visway at all.”

Jaime draws in a deep breath, a little bit sharper than he’d meant to, and she glances over at him, her brow furrowing. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry,” she says in a rush of words. “You probably don’t want to talk about that.”

“Definitely not in any detail,” he replies, blinking hard as the memories flood back in—no, no, he won’t think about it, not here, not now. Over the last couple of years he’s gotten better at managing the chaotic emotions that thinking of that time brings back, but they can still leave him reeling for hours if he isn’t prepared for it. “I’m sure people’ve had worse experiences on their first Visway roles, but I can’t imagine how terrible those could be if they’re worse than working with Aerys.”

Brienne nods, but doesn’t say anything for several long moments, moving her hand to hover above his before drawing it back and biting her lip. “Was it hard to come back?” she finally asks, nodding towards his right wrist. “After the accident, and after everything that went down in the aftermath. I can’t imagine it was easy to work up the courage to try again.”

“It wasn’t,” he agrees, “but you can probably imagine better than you think. You’ve had more than your fair share of struggles along the way, and it probably took just as much courage for you to keep trying even though you’d heard a thousand rejections and expected to hear a thousand more.”

“Good point,” she admits, a faint redness creeping up her neck, “but it’s still not the same as a major, traumatizing event.”

He nods shallowly before drawing in a deep breath and turning his gaze to the far wall. It takes him a long moment to gather his thoughts and speak, during which he’s uncomfortably aware of her eyes on him, of the line of her throat as she swallows before tearing her gaze away to study a piece of tape stuck to the floor. “I think it might have been easier if it was just about my hand. But I also had to face the fact that my father very clearly wrote me off as a performer as soon as he heard they’d need to amputate it. I mean, he announced I’d be leaving _Once_ before I was even out of surgery. And it became clear not much later that as soon as I expressed a desire to return to theatre, he’d start forcing me into a producer role instead of an acting one because ‘cripples don’t belong on the stage, Jaime, don’t be a fool’.”

“If that’s a direct quote,” Brienne says in a low voice, her eyes narrowing into thin slits, “then I’m going to be sorely tempted to kill your father the next time I see him.”

“Sadly, it is,” he mumbles, and she frowns even more, her hand again shifting towards his before she yanks it back into her lap. “He didn’t even bother to come see me in the hospital, didn’t bother to tell me that I was out of a job—I had to learn that from my brother, who’s in a whole different country. My father also didn’t think I needed to go to therapy, or that I needed to take time away to fully recover from what happened and his reaction to it. I do wonder, though, if he knew that therapy would make it easier for me to break away from him, because it allowed me to see how terrible he really was. Before that, I thought only my brother had endured abuse from him. I didn’t even realize how awful he was to me as well.”

Brienne shakes her head, her eyes flashing. “Forgive me for saying this, but your father sounds like an absolute piece of shit.”

“Oh, he definitely is,” Jaime says with a rueful laugh. “There’s no denying that. All the rumours about him are true, and I pray to the Seven every day that Daenerys Targaryen succeeds in her goal to take over his theatres so he can get some sort of punishment for everything he’s done. He more than deserves it.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what happens with that,” she says with a quick bob of her head. “Your father’s pretty widely reviled at this point, but a lot of people are wary of Daenerys because of _her_ father, even though she would have been, what, a year old when you revealed the truth about him?”

“Two years old, but yeah. She barely knew her father, so I’m not fully certain where this idea of her being exactly like him even came from. I’m not going to read into the whole situation too much beyond that. She’s willing and eager to give my father what he deserves, and that’s really all I need to know.”

“Fair enough,” she replies, nodding slowly as they settle into a comfortable silence for several minutes. He’s surprisingly at ease around Brienne, despite the fact they hardly know each other and only began to get along a couple days ago. But his instincts tell him she’s a genuine person in a way few on Visway are, and her lack of judgement after they’d finally begun to talk has been refreshing after two years of avoiding his father’s hypercritical gaze.

And nothing they’ve shared so far is really _secret_ , anyway. It’s just developing better knowledge of each other based on things that are already well known among the public. He’s not exactly sharing the worst of his father’s cruelties with her, and he wouldn’t be surprised to learn she has her own secrets she’s keeping hidden for now.

His eyes linger on her profile as she watches the rehearsals play out, tracing the line of her nose, her chin, her forehead for far longer than appropriate, long enough that colour blooms in her cheeks and she sends a quick, nervous glance towards him. He clears his throat a little too loudly and looks away, fixing his attention on a quietly arguing Quentyn and Arys and feeling heat rise in his own face.

Addam catches his gaze from across the room and winks before Ellaria pulls him over to learn a particularly complicated series of steps. He grins quickly at his friend as he turns away, and is distracted enough that he doesn’t notice Brienne’s watchful gaze on the exchange until he turns his head ever so slightly towards her.

“Forgive me for asking if you find it intrusive,” she says, carefully measuring each word before she says it, “but are you and Addam…together? I don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just that you seem familiar with each other in a way I recognize from my father and his partner.”

His first instinct is to deny, but hadn’t he just been thinking that he feels comfortable with Brienne, feels comfortable telling her things he’d normally keep under wraps? “We were,” he admits quietly, “though that was several years ago now. I considered making our relationship public for most of that time, but this was before Loras and Renly came out, and as far as I was aware there were no Visway stars openly in relationships with someone of the same gender at the time. And, truth be told, I internalized a lot of my father’s thoughts on queer people and anyone he considered to be different, and that definitely played a role in my fear of revealing that part of myself to anyone. The only reason Addam knew I was bi is because we’ve been friends for so long, and he still had to make the first move for everything in our relationship because I couldn't work up the courage to.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

Once again, there’s no malice in her tone, only gentle curiosity, and it’s that very fact which convinces him to tell her the truth. “Partly, yeah. Addam’s family is way more accepting than mine, and he doesn’t have as many of the same hangups as I did—still do, honestly. But we both grew up in an era where being openly gay or bi or queer wasn’t acceptable in this industry despite the stereotype that Visway is predominantly marketed towards queer people, and it’s been a struggle to unlearn that impulse to hide now that it _is_ acceptable. We were also both working on different shows at the same time and weren’t making time to see each other anymore. Theatre is very good at killing relationships, especially if you don’t put in the work to maintain them.”

“I can imagine,” Brienne murmurs. “Well, not all of it, since I’m not able to relate to the fear you two likely felt, but even working backstage is insanely busy. I don’t anticipate being able to see my dad at all for months, particularly since he’s got a show he’s super excited about right now.”

“He’s putting on _A Strange Loop_ , isn’t he? I’ve heard really good things about that one so far.”

“He is! I’m hoping scheduling will work out enough that I’ll be able to go, but I also don’t want to get my hopes up too soon. Visway schedules are a fucking grind.”

Jaime groans, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “Oh gods. Don’t remind me. I had two years off where I didn’t have to do any eight-show weeks. How am I going to get back into that routine now?”

“Practice?” Brienne suggests, giggling when he whips his head around to glare at her. “Go do three months on another show while also rehearsing for this one, and I’m sure you’ll be longing for eight-show weeks in no time flat.”

“Absolutely not,” he says immediately, and she laughs even more at his vehemence. “I would prefer to remain _among_ the living, thank you very much.”

They’re still laughing when a member of the ensemble drifts over to join them, a plain man with rather limp brown hair and the most boring face Jaime has ever seen in his years as an actor. The newcomer ignores him entirely in favour of turning his attention to Brienne, smiling in a too-polite manner that Jaime immediately distrusts. 

“Hello,” he says to her, sticking a hand in her face for her to shake before she has a chance to fully process his arrival. “I’m Hyle Hunt. I don’t know if you remember me from when we worked on _Cry-Baby_ together, but…”

“Oh, I remember you,” Brienne growls, shooting to her feet with a sharp glare in Hunt’s direction. “I remember you all too well.”

In the background, Jaime catches sight of Theon Greyjoy shaking his head with an all-too-knowing expression on his face as Hunt startles before foolishly barreling onwards. “I’m glad to hear that. I remember you quite fondly from our time together, and I’m delighted that we’ll be working together again. Maybe we’ll even become co-leads once Lannister leaves the production!”

He doesn’t like how Hunt says that like it’s a certainty, as if he’s ever abandoned a production before he felt his time there was done. And he doesn’t like how Brienne stiffens, nostrils flaring, at the other man’s words, as if he’s stumbled on some past hurt she doesn’t like talking about and managed to reopen a wound long thought healed. He’s equally unhappy with the way he’s being spoken about as if he wasn’t sitting _right there_ , and he’s about to say something when Brienne speaks again.

“Oh, you remember me _fondly_ , now? Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep better at night, or do you honestly think I’ve forgiven you for what you did, you _fucking asshole_?”

“Hey, hey now,” Hunt says, raising his hands in a placating gesture that only seems to serve to irritate Brienne more. “There’s no need to get so upset about it, Brie. It was only a joke, a little bit of fun between crewmates in between shows.”

“A _little bit of fun_ ,” she spits at him, her voice shaking with utter fury as she bores holes into him with blazing blue eyes. “If that’s all you think it was, then you can fuck right off back to where you came from and not bother me again. I’m not dealing with your brand of bullshit a second time, not unless you’ve proven to me that you’re not who you were back then. And until you have that proof, leave me the _fuck_ alone.”

She spins on her heel and stomps away, leaving Jaime staring after her in awe while Hunt shakes his head, looking incredulous. “Women,” the other man mutters, and he turns his head towards Jaime with a quick jerk. “I’ll never understand them.”

“Maybe you’re just not trying, then,” Jaime snaps, rising to his full height and noting with vindictive pleasure that he’s more than a head taller than the other man. “Because I think she made herself perfectly clear, even without having the context for whatever happened between you two in the past. You hurt her, and she wants nothing to do with you, so I’d take her advice and stay the fuck away from her unless you want her to knock all your teeth out. Because she could. And I would stand in the background and cheer her on when she does.”

“What—you don’t even _know_ her,” Hunt splutters, looking aghast. “What about bros supporting bros, hey? What happened to that?”

“That would require us to be _bros_ ,” Jaime tells him, smiling with all the Lannister sharpness he possesses. “And I don’t know you, either, but I can already tell I like her far more than I’ll ever like you. Until next time, Kyle. If there is a next time. I’m not especially hoping there is.”

“It’s _Hyle_ ,” the other man yells after him, but Jaime’s already walking away to find Brienne, and he doesn’t bother to turn around and respond. He knows Hunt’s name, but it’s much more fun to pretend he doesn’t and watch as he gets all worked up about it from a distance. It’s a petty revenge that’s far more enjoyable than his father’s usual techniques, which always seem to involve the destruction of a rival, no matter how unnecessary the action may be.

Brienne’s retreated to a corner of the room, looking visibly upset but not so much that he’s worried Hunt’s actions truly wounded her. She glances up at his approach and offers a tentative smile, still shaky with rage and hurt, but she doesn’t protest when he lowers himself to sit beside her on the floor.

“Are you alright?” he asks after a moment. “It seems like he upset you back there, though you don’t have to tell me specifics. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Better than I thought I’d be,” she admits, staring out into the middle of the room. “He’s an asshole, but he’s also pretty much the same asshole he was before, whereas I like to believe I’ve grown and changed as a person.” She huffs out a sharp breath, her hand clenching into a fist against her thigh, and Jaime inches his hand over to cover hers until her fist unclenches and she sighs heavily again. The warmth of her hand lingers on his palm when he draws back, and he realizes with a start that he’s never deliberately touched her outside of rehearsals before. The thought rattles him enough that he visibly starts when Brienne begins to speak again. “I wish he didn’t still have the power to upset me, and I hate how he was acting like he never did anything wrong, but that’s really all he can do to me anymore. I’ve learned not to trust people like him and not to blame myself for what happened before I knew better. It’s on him, not me.”

Jaime won’t deny that he’s desperately curious to know what exactly happened between Hunt and Brienne, but she’s under no obligation to share her secrets just because he did, and there are some things that are simply too personal to share. There’s a reason he hasn’t told her about Cersei, after all. He imagines whatever went down with Hunt in her past is much the same.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, watching out of the corner of his eye as Hunt crawls back over to Theon, who sends Hunt such a judgemental look that Jaime can practically hear the ‘I told you so’ spilling from his lips. “It’s hard, trying to make the past have no power over you. I’m glad to hear you’ve made some progress in that regard. Gives me hope for my own future.”

“It’s definitely not easy,” she agrees sombrely. “But we have to try, or we can never really move on.”

They fall silent again, sitting together for a minute, two, three, watching as Ellaria makes Addam and Quentyn and Arys and Gendry do a full run-through of the steps before finally deeming their work satisfactory. After dismissing the others, Ellaria turns her gaze in their direction and beckons them both over with a crooked finger and a small smile.

He bounds to his feet and offers his hand to help Brienne rise as well, though he doubts she needs it at all. But she takes the offer and he pulls her to standing, and for a brief moment he revels in the feeling of their joined hands, her palm against his even warmer than his hand covering her fist, before she lets go and steps away, gesturing for him to follow as she begins to make her way over to the centre of the room once again.

 _Focus_ , he tells himself sternly before hurrying after her, unwilling to face Ellaria’s wrath should he keep her waiting for too long. He can’t allow himself to be distracted right now, not even by his remarkably alluring co-star who he’s had several fascinating conversations with. There’s only three months left before they open on Visway, and they still have a great deal of work left to do.

***

 **Daenerys Targaryen to Purchase Crakehall Theatre**  
Robert Arryn for visway.com  
News July 12th, 2019

Producer and director Daenerys Targaryen, currently directing the highly anticipated Broadway premiere of _Six_ , is expected to purchase Crakehall Theatre from Tywin Lannister after he announced his company would be putting the building up for sale in early June. While negotiations are apparently ongoing, Targaryen is the only person interested in buying a theatre in need of serious renovations it wasn’t able to get due to the financial struggles the Lannister Organization has been hit by recently.

Should the Crakehall purchase go through, this will be the fourth theatre Targaryen Theatres has purchased from the Lannisters, following the purchases of the Golden Tooth, Faircastle, and Silverhill theatres. When approached for comment on the purchase, Targaryen stated that she wanted to ensure the ‘historic theatres that have been in operation since the early days of Visway continue to light up the theatre district and dazzle audiences as they have for years.’ Lannister declined to comment on the matter.

Targaryen is coming off a string of successes, including _Six_ and the Stannis Baratheon-helmed _Jagged Little Pill_ , now performing at Dragonstone Theatre. Lannister, on the other hand, is facing a sea of controversy regarding the changes made for his brother’s _West Side Story_ revival, along with the departure of his eldest son from the family business. Insiders at the Lannister Organization claim Jaime Lannister will soon return to the company, something neither father nor son has yet to confirm as fact.

***

 _The perils of doing a show at one of the theatres your family owns_ , Arianne Martell thinks to herself as she watches the first day of rehearsals play out before her, _is that you have to be around even when your character isn’t strictly necessary for what’s going on_. Today, the only number they’re learning that she’s involved in is the opening number, and unless Ellaria decides to make them do a full run-through of that, then she won’t be needed again for the rest of the day.

But her family owns the theatre, and her dad can’t be around today, so it’s up to her to supervise in his stead and make sure everything’s running as best it can after just one day of rehearsals. Most theatre families aren’t nearly so diligent about having producers supervise everything that goes on, but her father’s always been a tad overcautious, and Arianne’s not so reckless to deny that they’ve had some truly unpleasant incidents in the past she wouldn’t care to see occur a second time. 

So far, it hasn’t really been all that terrible. She’s in a perfect position to make fun of Quentyn every time he misses a step or stumbles, and watching Ellaria at work is never a terrible experience, no matter how many times she’s seen her uncle’s partner intently focused on getting a particular step just right. Plus, she can see for herself the whatever-it-is between Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth as it slowly begins to unfold, and that’s worth any and every meeting she has to endure afterwards to discuss what’s gone on with her father. 

She says as much to her cousin Obara, who nods thoughtfully as they both watch Jaime and Brienne head over to join Oberyn so he can block out Come What May with them. It doesn’t seem like an especially intimate setting, particularly with Oberyn fluttering around and giving instructions every ten seconds, and yet she can fairly feel the air between the two leads crackle with heat whenever their gazes meet, particularly when Oberyn urges Brienne to step closer and emphasize the connection their characters will have by that point in the show.

“They’re definitely going to be a thing by the end of this,” Obara agrees. “I mean, they’re both clearly interested in each other on an aesthetic level—although who wouldn’t be? And they complement each other so well when they’re acting. Even at the readings, their performances were so moving, and that’s without the added benefit of scenery and costumes and an ensemble dancing around behind them.”

“They have a rare chemistry,” Arianne murmurs, keeping her voice low so it doesn’t carry to the ears of the very people they’re discussing. “It bodes well for this run, knowing they work so well together.”

“Oh, definitely. Especially after Riverrun.”

Arianne winces and shakes her head. No one wants a repeat of Riverrun, where the production was mainly seen as _alright_ rather than good or memorable. They won’t make it far on Visway if they stay in the _alright_ category, but this already bodes well enough that she’s much less concerned than she was only a few days before. 

“Well, I’m sure Uncle Oberyn and Ellaria are going to make the most of that,” she says to her cousin, inclining her head towards the main rehearsals playing out in the middle of the room. “They were really frustrated with how little chemistry our Riverrun leads had together. This is like a dream come true for them.”

“Think we can get them in on the speculation?” Obara asks, the corners of her mouth turning up in a faint grin. “We’ve gotta get some of the creative team in there. It’s unfairly skewed towards actors right now.”

“I’ll talk to Margaery later, see if she can convince them,” Arianne offers even as something twists in her gut at the thought. “I can’t imagine they’d say no, though. They’re as starved for gossip and entertainment as we are. Which isn’t really that much, but we’ve got to entertain ourselves on long rehearsal days _somehow_.”

Obara laughs at that, shaking her head with a wry smile. “As long as our leads keep us entertained, we should be fine. I know everyone would put money on it being before the Webbs, but I can’t imagine them working things out too quickly. Neither seem to be the sort to have a good handle on their own emotions, and I can’t even begin to imagine the sort of contrived angst they’ll drag themselves into because of that.”

“As long as there’s no infidelity, I don’t think it’ll be too big a deal.”

“This is _Visway_ , Arianne. We love our infidelity. There’s a reason why so many musicals have it as a plot point.”

Arianne shakes her head again. “Infidelity, murder, death. For an industry that’s assumed to be pretty lighthearted and simplistic by outsiders, we sure make a lot of dark shit.”

“Even this show has both infidelity and death in it,” Obara agrees, “and this is pretty lighthearted by Visway standards. Actually, besides some Tully stuff, I can’t think of a single popular musical from the last ten years that’s all cheery and happy endings. These days it’s _all_ misery and death and infidelity.”

She dips her head in agreement at Obara’s words. The song-and-dance of musical theatre lends itself well to emotional stories, meaning most modern shows tend to be centered around characters, as opposed to the plot-heavy scripts preferred in other entertainment mediums. “Yeah, you’re right about that. But shhh, I think they’re gonna run it again, and I really want to see how it looks from a distance.”

Obara’s lips curl up slightly and she nods before following Arianne’s gaze to the leads in the middle of the room right as Oberyn steps back and nods to where Nymeria Sand is sitting at the piano.

“From the top,” he says, loudly enough that his words carry over to where they stand by the wall, observing the rehearsal a little too keenly. At his words, Nymeria’s hands settle over the keys and the first chord echoes through the air, Jaime’s first line following not long after.

“Because you still believe in happy endings and I know better,” he snaps, turning his head away from Brienne as he sits down on the battered-looking mattress they’re using in lieu of actual set pieces. She looks wounded for a brief moment before dropping to her knees before him and continuing the scene with her lines leading into the actual song. Her right hand rises and takes Jaime’s hand, while her other hand goes to rest against his cheek, and he leans into it, his right arm coming up to press against her arm as they exchange smiles.

Brienne begins to sing— _never knew I could feel like this_ —while her gaze remains fixed on Jaime’s, even as her left hand drops to wrap around the stump of his right arm. He smiles at her again, the joy on his face too wide and bright to be fake, and Arianne momentarily looks away, nearly blinded by how much _light_ is shining from their faces.

She glances back just in time to see Brienne stand, pulling Jaime to his feet as she does, before stepping so close to him there doesn’t appear to be anything between their bodies at all. She sings all the while, and Jaime just watches her, his eyes soft and the corners of his mouth gently curving upwards.

“I can’t watch this,” Obara mumbles suddenly, even as her gaze remains fixed on the scene playing out before them. “This is like...I feel like I’m a kid walking in on my parents having sex. Or worse than that, one of those moments where they’re looking at each other and you just _know_ what they’ll be doing later. It’s too much, and these two are gonna be lucky if I don’t kill them so I can avoid dealing with all the sexual tension because _damn_.”

Arianne nods, a grin passing over her face as she watches Brienne take Jaime’s hand in hers and press it against her heart. He raises his other arm to press it over her hand, and Arianne already understands exactly why her cousin feels like an intruder watching this, but she understands even more now, as she watches their leads exchange looks that seem so innocent and yet say so much. 

Her family isn’t in the habit of manipulating their actors in order to sell tickets, but _this_ , this electricity that she’s watching spark and twist through the air before her, it’ll be what they use to promote this show. It’ll be what people comment on during previews, and what gets mentioned immediately when reviews come out, and it’ll be the draw that keeps people interested, more so than any flashy set or even Ellaria’s exquisite choreography could.

They don’t even need to be touching to sell it, as becomes evident when Brienne steps away, turning her back to gesture at what’s now a blank wall but will eventually be a window before she turns to face Jaime again. She’s not smiling, not really, but there’s a warmth in her expression, one that shines out of her face and fills the room and it’s only rehearsals and she shouldn’t feel this strongly about it but suddenly Arianne can _believe_ it, can believe that love is powerful enough to overcome any obstacle, to change the entire world if they let it. She never felt that way back in Riverrun, not once.

_Gods, if these two don’t end up together, it’ll be the biggest waste of romantic chemistry I’ve ever seen._

They’re standing several paces apart now, with Brienne singing up to the ceiling, but they keep glancing at each other, the tiniest brushes of their eyes against the other’s gaze enough to paint a vivid picture of the love that exists between their characters. Jaime paces forward, one step, then two, then faltering and coming to a halt, every muscle in his body held tense and stiff, as if he’s longing to surge forward and...do what, Arianne isn’t quite sure about. 

When they move back together, it’s quick enough to catch Arianne off guard, but she doesn’t, _can’t_ tear her eyes away as Brienne’s hands glide upwards to cup Jaime’s face, as his hand presses against her upper arms, as they lean towards each other and their lips brush for the briefest moment before Jaime pulls back and begins to sing with a half-stricken expression on his face.

Their arms wrap around each other as they stand, their chest pressed together. Jaime’s singing out towards where the audience would be if they were on stage, and Brienne holds him close, her eyes shining when her turn to sing comes again. As she takes up the melody— _suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste_ —Jaime gazes up at her, and when they both sing together, their voices twining together and dancing through the air, their eyes lock and hold for one beat, two, three, until Oberyn clears his throat and Brienne glances away, her face flushing.

They pull apart, but only enough so they can walk forward, with Jaime pressed close to Brienne’s side and his arms wrapped around one of hers. When they draw to a halt, his head drops until it’s resting on her shoulder, emphasizing the difference between their heights. She sings her line, and he does the same with his own while drawing back so he can look up at her, and the expression on his face is so tender and aching that Arianne again feels like she’s intruding on a private moment between them and has to look away.

“Damn,” Obara says quietly, her eyes widening slightly as she stares across the room. “Where can I find a guy who looks at me like that? I mean, they barely know each other, and he’s already completely head over heels for her. They’re going to be unbearable once they’re together. They’ll be one of those couples that care about each other _so much_ and you can physically feel your standards for any future partner going up as you watch them.”

Arianne snorts with laughter. “Only then? I can already tell my standards are going to be higher after just watching this play out. The chemistry these two have is insane.”

“Oh, same here. Which is going to be a _lot_ of pressure on my poor date when we go out tomorrow night.”

“I’m sure they’ll rise to the challenge,” Arianne says, right as she watches the leads kneel on the floor, their arms wrapping around each other’s waists and one of Brienne’s hands rising to stroke Jaime’s cheek, and she could _swear_ they’re looking at each other like there’s no one else in the room, no one else in the world. “Or maybe not. Gods, how am I supposed to just sit here and _watch_ this? I keep feeling like I’ve walked in on them having sex, except that would almost be better because at least there’d be a _reason_ for me to feel so awkward about it.”

Obara shudders, before nodding towards the door. “Yeah, let’s go out in the hall. I don’t think I can watch this for much longer without...well, I’m not sure what I would do, but I doubt it’d be flattering for me. If they can keep this up during the actual show, we’ll have no problem selling tickets.”

“We’ll definitely have an issue when it comes time to replace them, though. I sincerely hope any audiences that come in after they leave don’t expect the same level of affection between the leads, because there’s no way Oberyn can replicate that, even with a pair of the best actors on Visway.”

“That’s provided we stay open that long,” Obara says, but her tone is too amused to match her pessimistic words. “Anyway, we definitely need to get into the hall, because Ellaria keeps looking over at us and I’d rather not end up on her bad side on the first day of rehearsals.”

They head out into the hall together, carefully closing the door behind them so it’s not too loud for those still in the room. Other cast members have clearly had the same idea—Arianne spots Asha Greyjoy bickering with her brother, and the dullest-looking man she’s ever seen is sulking in a shadowed corner—but no one’s close enough to bother her and Obara as they move a few paces down the hall.

“This is gonna be so good,” Obara mutters as soon as they’re out of earshot of the others. “I had my reservations after the fiasco that was Riverrun, but what we just saw was proof that we’re not going to have any of the same problems this time around. Can you believe it was only a week ago when they were at odds with each other?”

“It sure feels like they’ve been together for ages when you watch them perform,” Arianne agrees, shaking her head as she speaks. “Watching them feels a bit like watching Oberyn and Ellaria whenever we head over to visit them. They’re perfectly in sync, as if they know what the other’s thinking before they even think it.”

Before Obara can reply, Jaime and Brienne wander out into the hall together, with him snickering under his breath while she rolls her eyes even as a fond smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. They’re not talking especially loudly, but Arianne’s _definitely_ eavesdropping on them as they come to a halt a few paces away from her and Obara.

“Come on,” Jaime says, nudging Brienne with his shoulder. “You can’t tell me you’re not looking forward to it.”

“I’m not as optimistic as you are,” Brienne responds, shaking her head and turning away to hide her smile. “I’d love for us to be as successful as you think we’re going to be, but I don’t want to get my hopes up and risk getting let down again. Besides, I know for a fact you’re not going to win. The Theatre Wing can’t afford to inflate your ego any more than they already have.”

He claps his hand to his chest and steps back, affecting a wounded expression, and Arianne quickly brings her hand up to her mouth to hide her laughter. “You wound me, your grace. And here I thought we were beginning to get along.”

“Your grace?” Obara mumbles, her brow furrowing. “What’s he going on about?”

Brienne seems to have the same thought, because she pauses and arches an eyebrow as she stares down at a now-grinning Jaime. “Jaime, where on earth did _your grace_ come from?”

“The show!” he says, cheerily enough to nearly set Arianne’s giggles off again. “When Sebaston thinks Cyrenna is the Duchess, he asks her if she wants to be called your grace, and she says yes, which means I have to call you that from now on.”

“No it doesn’t,” Brienne counters immediately with a quick shake of her head. 

“Yes it does.”

Arianne exchanges a look with Obara and they both turn away to hide their laughter from the two leads as they continue to bicker back and forth beside them. “Poor Brienne,” she whispers to her cousin after a moment, once she’s finally regained control of her breathing and can open her mouth without a laugh bursting out of her. “She’s gonna have to deal with _that_ constantly from now until the run ends.”

“I don’t think she’s too upset about it,” Obara returns just as quietly. “She certainly didn’t tell him he can’t call her _your grace_ , after all.”

No, Arianne muses as she watches the pair out of the corner of her eye. Brienne hadn’t protested at all—not that Jaime would let her, since he seems to have won the argument and is now smiling triumphantly up at Brienne as he slouches against the wall next to her. Her cheeks are flushed again—they seem to be like that a great deal whenever she’s around Jaime—but her lips keep quirking upwards despite her best efforts to remain serious, and her blue eyes are sparkling even in the poor lighting of the hallway.

“Let’s leave them to it,” she whispers to her cousin before tugging her down the hall. “I have a feeling they’re gonna be there a while.”

And indeed, even as she and Obara are walking away, she glances back to see Jaime laughing as Brienne shakes her head in mock exasperation, their faces lighting up with joy and something almost like fondness, paying hardly any notice to the people around them and never once looking up to notice Arianne’s keen gaze.

***

 **Ronnet Connington Accuses Martells of Favouritism on Moulin Rouge! Production**  
Petyr Baelish, ViswayNow  
July 7th, 2019

Stage star Ronnet Connington, best known for his roles in _Newsies_ and _Book of R’hllor_ , is speaking out after his abrupt departure from the Visway production of _Moulin Rouge!_ last week, which at the time was reported to be due to ‘irreconcilable artistic differences’. However, Connington has a different story to tell, one that paints an all-too-damning picture of what it’s _really_ like to work for the most unconventional family in the theatre industry.

“They play favourites,” he reveals to me over the phone from his apartment near Flea Bottom. “They’ve got their stars, and they play themselves up to them so that they don’t have to bother with the rest of the cast. Jaime Lannister, Brienne Tarth, that’s who their priorities are, and they make sure everyone else knows it. They’re not even good actors!”

While Jaime Lannister is a well-known name on Visway for his controversies and poorly reviewed performances, Brienne Tarth is a Visway newcomer, who has no right to be situating herself so high up with a family like that, as Connington tells me, his frustration all too evident even over the phone. “There’s a place for the stars, and there’s a place for the newbies, and it’s very clear that no one’s taught her the difference. Maybe that’s a failure of the industry, but I think this one’s on her. You’d think a woman like that would understand she should stay away from leading roles like Cyrenna.”

He goes on to confess that he was fired from the project for voicing his concerns about the clear preferences the show’s production team was showing the leads, citing concerns that the ensemble was being ignored and disrespected. Director/producer Oberyn Martell, a man known throughout Visway for his inability to stay in his own lane, took offence to Connington’s worries and went running to his big brother to ensure the actor was summarily fired.

“It’s unacceptable, and I’m worried someone in the cast is going to get hurt because of it,” he says shortly before the call ends. “The producers have chosen their side, and it’s not that of the majority of the cast. They’ve made poor casting choices, and are staking too much on them, and people are going to suffer for it. I guarantee it.”

 _Moulin Rouge!_ opens at Sunspear Theatre in three months, and will be playing an open-ended run until at least the Webb Awards. After these revelations, however, it’s definitely not on my list of shows to watch this year, and it shouldn’t be on yours either.

12 Comments:

 **monkey_mark:** oh gods, that’s awful behaviour, and kudos to Connington for stepping forward and confronting the producers. that kind of thing takes guts, and I hope he finds a way better role somewhere else soon to make up for it. don’t go see moulin rouge guys. it’s not worth supporting the martells for.

 **neeeeeedle:** yeah, don’t go see moulin rouge, because roncon and Baelish are the world’s most trustworthy sources. or are we all going to forget that Baelish once said Dorne shouldn’t be a part of the rest of Westeros because they’re too ‘different’, or that Connington was fired from his last role as well when he punched an ensemble member for getting within six feet of him, which was apparently ‘too close’?  
**monkey_mark:** none of that was proven. it’s all slander by the media trying to make people like jaime lannister look better. there’s no evidence to back any of your claims.  
**neeeeeeedle:** link: _visway.com/petyr-baelish-claims-dorne-should-separate-from-rest-of-westeros_ link: _viswayworld.com/connington-fired-for-attacking-ensemble_ link: _viswayworld.com/heres-why-baelish-isnt-a-valid-news-source_ you were saying?  
**monkey_mark:** fuck off @neeeeeeedle

 **joncon:** hey, I’m Connington’s cousin who’s also working on moulin rouge, and I’d like to state for the record that his claims are all false. he was fired for insulting multiple cast members as well as the director, and he refused to apologize when given a chance to. he also has a history of missing rehearsals and intentionally flubbing scenes on stage when he thinks his co-stars aren’t focusing on him enough. all in all, he’s a deeply unpleasant person and I really wish I wasn’t related to him at all.  
**seawart:** oh no, that’s terrible! although I do think I’ve heard most of that before, so I don’t know why I’m surprised?  
**hilljoy:** disappointed but not surprised by Baelish’s antics yet again, it seems. and Connington too, I guess, but tbh didn’t we already know this about him?  
**joncon:** @hilljoy I’m always surprised by the number of people unaware of how terrible he is. you’d be surprised too if you saw some of his defenders on twitter going at it.  
**hilljoy:** fair, fair. though twitter is a cesspool, so that doesn’t shock me either at this point.

 **bushboyben:** so glad to see a publication _finally_ showing some sense! we’ve been warning people about Tarth for years, but no one’s listened until now. thank you to Petyr Baelish for giving us the truth we all knew was out there.  
**neeeeeeedle:** good gods are there MORE of you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're curious about what the Come What May staging looks like, I have good news for you! the theatre gods have decided to bless us with [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV-A_1FtIgU) of it, and as a bonus it was officially released so the quality's actually good! (me @ the producers: now release the rest of it. I know you have it).
> 
> the rehearsal period prior to a broadway production would definitely be longer than three months, but I didn't want to spend that much time writing rehearsals because this fic might never end otherwise, so we're cutting it down to this timeline. 
> 
> also, in case you think I'm kidding about the infidelity thing: I'm not. the number of modern musicals that feature infidelity, death, or both is astonishingly high. I actually have a list somewhere, though it's only shows I know and I'm not going to share it right now.
> 
> jaime's reasons for calling brienne 'your grace' are lifted from the actual _Moulin Rouge!_ production. he and I both think this is highly amusing. brienne is very good at pretending it doesn't amuse her.
> 
> all the names in the comments section of the Connington article are meant to be real asoiaf/got characters. you can probably guess who they are, if you were so inclined.
> 
> not a lot of broadway knowledge for me to fire at you in these notes, so instead have a fun fact: 90% of the reason I didn't want addam or jaime to be involved in _Newsies_ is because I was involved in a _Newsies_ production once (it was amateur and the dancing was not nearly as intense as the broadway version, and I was actually in the pit and not on stage, but still).
> 
> next time: rehearsals continue, a minor injury occurs, and Hyle Hunt thinks he has a lot more game than he actually does.


	5. 2.5 Months to Opening/Sympathy For The Duke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the first few lines, her awareness of the room around them fades until she’s forgotten Ellaria’s assessing eyes upon them, the fact that the music is a piano line coming through tinny phone speakers rather than a full orchestra echoing through the powerful speakers of a stage, that they’re in their street clothes moving across an empty rehearsal room rather than in full costume with a stunning set behind them. She knows how to dance with Jaime by now—they’ve spent enough time rehearsing Shut Up And Raise Your Glass over the last couple days to guarantee that much. This is just another way of dancing with him, only with half as much contact making everything far easier to endure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! we're back at it! this has been a Week but hopefully this can bring you some comfort or an escape for a little while because...yeah.
> 
> forgive me for the wonky formatting you may have noticed if you read chapter 4 right away. I did go back and fix that, along with changing a bunch of formatting in the earlier chapters (there is a reason for this. the reason is that it looks nicer and I like it better this way). nothing about the story itself has changed, though, so don't worry about going back to check on it because it's only formatting changes.
> 
> this chapter brought to you by my fears for the future of the theatre industry! mean girls on broadway announced it wouldn't be returning post-covid this week, and now I'm concerned as to what this means for the fate of theatre when all this is over! especially small community theatres that don't have the same kind of financial support broadway theatres do!
> 
> warnings for this chapter: the second half of this chapter is narrated by a character who says and thinks some misogynistic things in a very dudebro-esque fashion. other than that, I don't think there's anything to worry about in this one.
> 
> once again, thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this one! also come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) if you want to! thank you for reading, stay safe out there, and enjoy!

_Pleased to meet you  
Hope you guess my name  
But what’s puzzling you is the   
Nature of my game…  
-Sympathy For The Duke, Moulin Rouge!_

**Oberyn Martell:** you know you’ve been missing out, not constantly being at the theatre

 **Willas Tyrell:** that’s what marg said too  
 **Willas Tyrell:** what’s going on? what have you fools done to my show?  
 **Willas Tyrell:** (jk I know you’re doing a lovely job which is why I don’t feel the need to be there every single day)

 **Oberyn Martell** : so you know how jaime and brienne argued at the first two readings but bonded unexpectedly at the final one?

 **Willas Tyrell** : oh yeah I do remember that  
 **Willas Tyrell:** that was pretty odd jaime’s not usually so…understanding about those sorts of things

 **Oberyn Martell** : that’s an unusually polite way of phrasing it   
**Oberyn Martell:** but anyway   
**Oberyn Martell:** watch this   
**Oberyn Martell:** jbcomewhatmay.vid

 **Willas Tyrell:** k first of all kudos to you and Ellaria that’s an AMAZING staging even w/out actually being on stage yet   
**Willas Tyrell:** second I think I see what you and marg mean   
**Willas Tyrell:** what’s the estimate on when they’re gonna get together?

 **Oberyn Martell:** depends on who you ask? the general consensus is before the webbs though   
**Oberyn Martell:** asha made the most specific prediction so far, though I think Elia’s will be even more specific if I manage to rope her into guessing  
 **Oberyn Martell:** idk if i want to though it seems kind of shady to speculate on their relationship without them knowing

 **Willas Tyrell:** part of me wants to say the webbs are too soon   
**Willas Tyrell:** but also they’ve known each other for what, a week?

 **Oberyn Martell:** yeah, and they’re already looking at each other like That   
**Oberyn Martell:** def not going to be any problems with lack of chemistry this time around

 **Willas Tyrell:** oh, absolutely   
**Willas Tyrell:** hmmm   
**Willas Tyrell:** I’d say before the webbs, yes, but they’ll get together on nomination day   
**Willas Tyrell:** or at least, that’s when they’ll figure out their feelings for each other  
 **Willas Tyrell:** but you have a point about the shadiness of all this so that’s the last i’ll say about it

 **Oberyn Martell:** alright alright   
**Oberyn Martell:** don’t tell your sister that though  
 **Oberyn Martell:** she seems to think a betting pool is a good idea because that definitely won’t go over badly if it ever comes out

 **Willas Tyrell:** oh gods marge why  
 **Willas Tyrell:** did she learn NOTHING from garlan’s mistakes  
 **Willas Tyrell:** why did you let her do this

 **Oberyn Martell:** no one let her do anything she did all this herself   
**Oberyn Martell:** I kinda want to tell her to stop but maybe facing consequences for this will actually teach her a lesson about prying into other people’s business 

**Willas Tyrell:** yeah that might be the only thing to keep her from doing this again  
 **Willas Tyrell:** I love my sister but she’s very bad at figuring out when to stop   
**Willas Tyrell:** hopefully grandma can help her with that before this backfires badly but i doubt it’ll work

 **Oberyn Martell:** if anyone can convince your sister to leave well enough alone it’s olenna   
**Oberyn Martell:** but enough dreary talk   
**Oberyn Martell:** I have rehearsals to get back to and you have...whatever it is you’re doing rn to do

 **Willas Tyrell** : haha ttyl

***

Brienne doesn’t _mean_ to tense up when Ellaria calls her and Jaime into a side room so they can rehearse Elephant Love Medley. She’s not afraid of the song, and there’s no reason to be tense around Jaime now that they’re actually friendly with each other. And they’ve spent so much of rehearsals fairly wrapped around each other already that her nerves make little sense. But it’s still an _entire_ song of close contact and romantic declarations, and she’s never been the sort to be effusive in public. Especially not with someone she still doesn’t know all that well, their multiple rehearsal chats and lengthy text conversations aside.

“This song is about the growing intimacy between your characters,” Ellaria tells them as she positions them on opposite sides of the room in what she’s decided are their opening places for the number. “Brienne, Cyrenna has just been encouraged to not let go of her love for Sebaston, so she’s trying to seize this opportunity before it slips away from her. Jaime, Sebaston’s terrified of his feelings for Cyrenna, and he’s trying not to acknowledge them until midway through this number. Both your movements and your expressions need to express that, especially where the lyrics don’t.”

Jaime nods thoughtfully, probably already running through the lyrics in his mind and laying out where his performance needs to support them most. “Alright. I think we can pull that off, right, Brienne?”

“Sure,” she mumbles, caught off guard by his attention turning to her. Ellaria nods at them both, before stepping back and holding up her phone.

“For now, we’re just going to run through the opening section. This part’s only the two of you, so it doesn’t need to be as tightly choreographed as the later sections, which gives us a lot more room to work with. I want to start by seeing how you’d do it instinctually up to Brienne’s _I can’t help falling in love with you_. After that, we’ll regroup and evaluate. You two ready?”

They both nod, and Ellaria hits play.

Immediately, Brienne turns towards where the audience would be, one hand reaching forward in a broad gesture as she delivers her first line— _all you need is love_ —her other hand rising to her chest in a gesture she thinks looks passionate but could easily be stilted. Jaime responds by shaking his head and turning away on his own line, and soon they’re engaged in a strange dance, where he pulls away every time she draws near, where she chases him back and forth across the room while he withdraws.

After the first few lines, her awareness of the room around them fades until she’s forgotten Ellaria’s assessing eyes upon them, the fact that the music is a piano line coming through tinny phone speakers rather than a full orchestra echoing through the powerful speakers of a stage, that they’re in their street clothes moving across an empty rehearsal room rather than in full costume with a stunning set behind them. She knows how to dance with Jaime by now—they’ve spent enough time rehearsing Shut Up And Raise Your Glass over the last couple days to guarantee that much. This is just another way of dancing with him, only with half as much contact making everything far easier to endure. 

“And we’re good,” Ellaria says at last, startling Brienne out of whatever trance the music put her in. “That was awesome, you two! I loved the push-and-pull aspect of your movement, and I especially like how Jaime would pull away whenever you tried to reach for him, Brienne. It’s not exactly how I would have choreographed it, but it’s close enough that I don’t see much reason to nitpick. We’re going to run that a couple more times before going more in depth, but this time I’d like to see more of your feelings on your faces. The body language was excellent, but there were a couple times when the expressions fell a tiny bit flat. Brienne, you could also be a bit more forceful with your first lines, they were rather timid, and Jaime, I’d like to see you hesitate the slightest bit before you pull your arm away from her. Remember that Sebaston doesn’t want to reject Cyrenna, and play it that way.”

“Alright,” Jaime says with a nod, speaking for them both once again. “Up to the same part, or do you want to go on a little longer this time?”

“Same section,” Ellaria says as they return to their starting positions. “Eventually the ensemble’s going to join you on stage, so we need to be more exact about the choreography for afterwards. And...now!’

This time, Brienne doesn’t shy away under Ellaria’s keen gaze as she starts the number off, taking a step forward as she speaks. She’s not sure how to incorporate the note of adding more emotion onto her face, but her mind shifts into character mode midway through, and most of her thoughts for the latter half of the song are from Cyrenna’s view rather than Brienne’s, as has been occasionally happening during rehearsals—mostly when she’s with Jaime, oddly enough.

It seems tighter this time, flowing better, though she’s not an expert on this by a long shot. Jaime’s brief pause before he yanks his arm away _hurts_ , something it didn’t do before when he did it without hesitation, and when he turns to look at her the desperation and fear on his face almost seems real—convincing enough that she’s caught off guard again when the music cuts off and Ellaria calls them over.

The choreographer stands there for a moment, her hands on her hips, shaking her head slowly as a slow smile spreads across her face. “You two,” she says, sounding delighted. “This is going to be _so_ good. I haven’t seen chemistry like this in a long time. If we’d had this in Riverrun, we might have had far fewer problems than we did.”

Brienne blinks before glancing over at Jaime. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jaime tells her, shooting her an impossibly broad grin. “It means neither of us are out of a job just yet, your grace.”

“ _Your grace_?” Ellaria asks, raising one eyebrow in an all-too-knowing gesture, and Brienne flushes red.

“Ignore him. He apparently thinks it’s hilarious that his character calls mine that when he mistakes her for the duchess, and has been calling me that ever since.”

“But it _is_ hilarious,” Jaime grumbles, shaking his head with a disappointed expression. “You just have no sense of humour whatsoever. Or at least, not a really fun one.”

Brienne shakes her head and says nothing, just shoots him a look, which for some reason sends Ellaria into a fit of laughter. “Oh, Oberyn is going to _love_ this,” she says with a grin. “Anyways, let’s do this one more time, and then I want to slow things down for a bit so we can focus on the smaller details. This time, I want you to play things bigger. Remember, you’ll have to act to the back of the house when onstage. It’s better to start doing that now so you don’t need to adjust when we actually get into the theatre space and start rehearsing in there. And Brienne, remember you chase, he pulls back. It’s a dance, even before you’re properly dancing together. Make it look like a dance, not just a chase around the room. Jaime, that goes for you too. You’re as much a part of the dance as she is.”

They shift back into position and begin for a third time, this one even easier than before. By now, Brienne’s found herself retracing the steps she took earlier, and shifting to adjust whenever she or Jaime are slightly out of position. She’s almost disappointed when Ellaria cuts the music off this time and nods at them both, looking delighted.

“Excellent work,” she tells them, rubbing her hands together with a look of glee on her face. “We can’t really work on the second part of this number with just you two, so let’s take a look at it from the beginning again, but slower. Brienne, you’ll be standing on some furniture when this starts, which we don’t have right now so you’ll have to pretend this time. Jaime, I want you to stay in place as she approaches you, half-turned away but darting looks back often enough for the audience to see how reluctant you are to be refusing her.”

Brienne nods and draws back to her starting position, leaving Jaime in the spot Ellaria’s marked for him. “Do you want me to time my approach specifically?” she asks the choreographer, who shakes her head.

“No, don’t worry about it. The opening is pretty loose as long as you’re able to reach out to him at _all you have to do is fall in love_. Can I see you two go up to there without music, and then pause?”

It’s much more difficult to shift into character mindset without at least the piano line in the background, but Brienne supposes the purpose of this is less to be in character and more to nail the choreography. She does her best anyway, trying to exaggerate her movements as much as possible until her hand stretches out and brushes Jaime’s shoulder and he spins around right as Ellaria cuts them off again.

“Excellent, excellent,” she tells them, nodding slowly as one finger taps against her leg. “For the next bit, I’d like to see Brienne reaching out for Jaime a couple times, and him pulling away both times before walking away to evade her touch. There’ll eventually be a divan for you to sit on, but for now we’ll pretend that the floor is good enough. By the time you get to _in a day or two_ , Brienne’ll be sitting down and Jaime will be standing and facing away. We’ll go up to there and then stop again.”

They begin again with Jaime turning away and singing _love hurts_ while she reaches out for him again, then a second time when he flinches away from her touch. For some reason the movement stings, even though he’s acting, even though he has yet to shy away from the few casual touches they’ve had outside of rehearsals and hasn’t once flinched when they’ve rehearsed other scenes with even more physical contact. But she knows what it’s like to be scorned by men like Jaime—including Jaime himself, though she’s largely forgiven him for it—and it’s hard to forget how much that hurts.

Those thoughts carry her through to the end of the section, when Ellaria cuts them off again with another quick nod. “You two are doing great! Sorry to make you do this so many times, but since you’re picking it up so quickly I feel a lot less guilty about it.”

“We’re professionals,” Jaime says, his tone easy and joking as he turns from his position standing above Brienne to flash a grin at Ellaria. “And it’s not like this is especially hard stuff.”

Brienne nods, a little hesitantly. “Yeah, the two of us get off easy with this show. Poor Addam has to do some really intense dancing in the second act.”

“But think of it this way,” Ellaria offers, smiling warmly at them both. “It’ll look _amazing_ when it’s done. Now, for the next bit, I’m going to need you both to humour me a bit. We don’t want to take ourselves too seriously—this is still a jukebox musical and there’s definitely going to be things the audience shouldn’t find funny that they’ll laugh at—so there’s going to be some fairly exaggerated gestures and dancing here before things get more serious towards the end of the number. Don’t worry about being focused for now, just go along with the flow. It’s better to get the laughter out in rehearsals than to be unable to take yourself seriously onstage.”

The exaggerated dance she shows Brienne is easy enough, and she’s able to run it through a few times before they do the next section without any trouble. What _is_ difficult is Jaime’s hand gripping her shirt, his expression terrified and a bit desperate, as he jabs a finger in her face, attempting to persuade her to leave. 

She’s not even sure why, doesn’t think she could explain it if someone asked. Maybe it’s the fact that Jaime’s reactions seem so _real_ , coming with all the ability of someone who’s been doing this for twenty years now. Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that he’s a beautiful man, and Brienne has known for a long time that she’s not very good at resisting the allure of beautiful men.

It would almost be easier if she still hated him, still held onto her resentment from ten years of having the theatre industry prove his harsh words to her were right. Then all of this, this _contact_ wouldn’t be nearly so overwhelming—although maybe it would be, she has no way of knowing for certain. Jaime’s a hard person to resist, and she’s spent the better part of the last two weeks touching him and dancing with him and _kissing_ him.

And none of it means anything. This is a job, and it’s their characters who are doing all these things together, and at the end of the day he’s not affected by it and she shouldn’t be either. It’s not like she has feelings for him—she’s not stupid enough to fall for another man destined to break her heart—or like this will matter once the show is over. If she wants to be successful on Visway, she needs to learn to cope with having beautiful co-stars who are obligated to pretend to be in love with her eight times a week. Jaime may be the first, but if she manages to make a career out of this then he certainly won’t be the last.

“Good, good,” Ellaria tells them, looking as if she’s about to speak again before a clamour arises in the hallway and all three of them turn towards the door in a motion nearly as seamless as the dance they’d just been rehearsing.

“What’s going on out there?” Jaime asks with a frown as Ellaria steps over to the door and pokes her head out into the hall. “Can you see?”

“I can’t tell,” the choreographer mutters, pushing the door open all the way and stepping out. “Well, you two might as well come with me. We’re not gonna get any work done if we’re in here wondering what’s happened.”

Most of the cast has gathered in the hall and are chatting there, though Oberyn is nowhere to be seen and Arianne and Obara keep glancing towards the half-open door to the main rehearsal room. 

“What happened?” Brienne asks Arianne as she steps over to them, leaving Ellaria and Jaime behind for a moment as they detour to talk to Margaery and Addam. 

“One of the ensemble fell and possibly injured his ankle,” Obara explains, sending another worried glance towards the door. “I think it was Podrick? My dad asked us to clear out so we didn’t get in the way while he checked to make sure Podrick wasn’t too badly hurt, so we’re just waiting out here.”

“I think he’ll be alright,” Arianne says as Ellaria darts into the room, leaving Jaime to keep chatting. “His ankle wasn’t swollen as far as I could tell, and I think Oberyn mostly wanted to give Podrick some space rather than have us all standing over him asking if he’s okay while he’s trying to make sure everything’s alright.”

Arianne’s words are confirmed a moment later when Ellaria reappears with a slight smile on her face and claps her hands to draw everyone’s attention. “Don’t worry,” she tells them. “Pod’s going to be just fine, although he’ll have to take it easy the rest of the day to avoid aggravating his ankle any further. Feel free to go back in, although Oberyn says we’re gonna break for lunch early today since we’re already distracted.”

There’s a widespread sigh of relief—though whether it’s about Pod or the prospect of lunch is unclear—and the cast disperses in a hundred different directions. Brienne nods a quick farewell to Arianne and Obara before heading over to the door and glancing inside to see Oberyn helping Pod to his feet and guiding him across the floor to sit down on one of the chairs shoved against the wall.

“Hey,” she says to them when Oberyn glances over at her with a raised eyebrow and a smile. “I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything, Pod? Since you probably can’t go get lunch yourself on an injured ankle.”

“That’d be great, thank you,” Pod replies, grinning up at her. “You’re a gem, Brienne.”

Oberyn’s eyebrow rises up further at the easy familiarity between the two of them. “I see you two know each other pretty well,” he says slowly, and Brienne glances over at him quickly even though there’s nothing but curiosity in his tone.

“I was a stage manager on Pod’s very first show,” she explains, and Pod flashes her another bright grin. “He was the youngest person in the ensemble by far and didn’t feel comfortable asking his castmates for advice, so I ended up giving him a lot of tips whenever our paths crossed. It’s nice to see he’s found a place for himself here.”

“Well, we try to make sure everyone’s welcome,” Oberyn says, a pleased smile settling onto his face as he takes a seat next to Pod. “Brienne, do you mind picking up something for me as well, since you’re going out? I don’t want to leave Pod alone while everyone else grabs food.”

“Of course,” she tells him, turning towards the door before pausing and glancing back. “Either of you have any preferences? Jaime and I were planning on trying the new Pentoshi place down the block, but we can go grab something else if you want.”

Oberyn and Pod exchange an unreadable glance at _Jaime and I_ , and Brienne flushes red before wondering why she’s embarrassed. She’s not doing anything wrong in spending time with Jaime outside of the theatre, and aren’t they glad their leads are getting along instead of constantly at each other’s throats? She’s done enough backstage work to know all too well how terrible _that_ option is—another reason to be grateful she’d managed to resolve her issues with Jaime.

“Pentoshi sounds good to me,” Oberyn says after a moment, Pod nodding eagerly at his side. “Thanks, Brienne. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says over her shoulder before returning to the hallway, where Jaime’s leaning against a wall scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a smile at the sound of her footsteps, and she returns it while a warm feeling bubbles up in her chest.

“You ready to go?” he asks, pushing off the wall to join her as she continues to walk down the hall. Their arms brush as he hurries to keep pace with her faster stride—she’d been making fun of him the other day, telling him he should have no trouble keeping up with her if he was almost as tall as she was after Ellaria had told him his steps were too short during rehearsal, and he’d spent almost an hour sulking about it afterwards.

“Yeah. I promised to get something for Pod and Oberyn as well, if you’re not opposed to helping me carry it back.” 

“No, that’ll be fine,” Jaime says, before wincing as his prosthetic hand smacks into hers. “Sorry. That can happen if I walk too close to someone.”

She shakes her head and pats him on the arm. “It’s fine, Jaime. Obara accidentally punched me in the arm yesterday and it hurt more than that.”

“Well, Obara can throw a hell of a punch if she wants to. And it was nice of you to volunteer to get food for those two. Not every lead would bother to do something so nice for a mere _ensemble_ member—although I have to admit I’ve worked with more than my fair share of terrible leads in my career, and for a long time I probably would’ve counted myself among that number.”

She ducks her head, smiling shyly. “Pod and I know each other from another show we did together, so I feel a bit obligated to help him out. And you worked for your father for years. The man’s practically a homing beacon for shitty people.”

“Fair point,” Jaime says with a grin, nudging her shoulder with his own before stepping forward and pushing the theatre door open with a flourish. “After you, your grace.”

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him with a laugh, stepping out into the sunlight and squinting against it as he closes the door and bounds over to join her. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you’ve had the great misfortune of being saddled with me as a co-star,” Jaime says, seriously enough that she glances at him with a frown, but then he bursts out laughing, loud and cheerful beneath the golden sunlight, and she shakes her head again and plows onwards, pretending to ignore him for almost half a block before her own laughter overcomes her.

They walk the rest of the way side by side, their voices mingling in the air as they continue to chat easily beneath the warmth of the summer sun and surrounded by the brick and steel that make up the beating heart of King’s Landing. 

***

 **Podrick Payne @squire_payne**  
Honoured to be the first rehearsal injury for Moulin Rouge by twisting my ankle today! Luckily @oberynmartell and @btarth were around to help me out and keep me from doing anything worse! A reminder for me to take more care next time, I guess.

***

Hyle Hunt likes to think of himself as a pragmatic man, which is why he approaches Brienne Tarth at the end of the day after rehearsals, despite her fierce refusal to speak to him last time. Theon Greyjoy may think this is a terrible idea, but he’s a Greyjoy. What does he know about courting the daughters of major Off-Visway theatre owners?

“Hey, Tarth,” he says to her when she finally turns away from her conversation with Jaime Lannister—and just who does that fucker think he is, monopolizing all her time? “Listen, I know we got off to a bad start last time, but I wanted to say great job today. You’ve really started to come into your own since the last time we worked together. It’s pretty impressive.”

“What do you want, Hyle?” she snaps, brushing past him to grab her bag and catching him off guard. _Aren’t women like her supposed to be delighted when a guy like me talks to them? Though, I suppose she’s been spending half her time talking to Lannister. That’s enough to sway many a woman towards liking assholes like him over men who actually care, like me._

“Nothing,” he says defensively, raising his hands. “I just wanted to talk. Catch up, share a few laughs about the good old days, you know? No need to get so snappish about everything.”

She turns to him with an arched eyebrow, the disdain fairly radiating off her, and he again laments the issue of men like Jaime Lannister, who draw women in with their pretty faces and leave everyone else hanging out to dry. “Oh, the good old days, were they? The good old days when you pretended to like me in order to win money, when you and Ron Connington and all the rest of your cronies thought it would be _funny_ to try and manipulate me for the sake of a fucking _game_? The good old days when you told me the only reason anyone would be interested in me was so they could get their hands on my dad’s theatres? _Those_ good old days?”

“I think we’re having a difference of memories,” he says with a frown. “I don’t remember any of that at all.” In truth, he does, but he remembers it being fun, remembers Brienne laughing along with the rest of them when it was all over. “There’s no reason why we can’t look past all that and move on as friends. You certainly did the same for Jaime Lannister.”

“Jaime’s different,” she says, her voice surprisingly cold and chilly. “He didn’t try to use or manipulate me, and he never once acted like he’d done nothing wrong. I forgave Jaime for being an asshole in the past because he openly admitted to being an asshole, and told me there was no excuse for his behaviour and that he didn’t expect me to forgive him for it. Also, he was rude to everyone, whereas you _specifically_ singled me out to taunt. So no, you two aren’t the same at all. Don’t try and compare the two situations.”

He rolls his eyes, wondering why he even bothers anymore. “Oh, come on. Surely it didn’t bother you that much. It’s just a bit of fun between friends, Brienne. Don’t take everything so personally.”

“Excuse me?” she hisses, her eyes blazing with such fury that he can’t help but take a step back—and collide hard with the solid chest of Jaime Lannister, who’s also glaring down at him with cold green eyes.

“What do you think you’re playing at, Bunt?” Lannister demands as he moves to Brienne’s side and she smiles at him gratefully—because of course, of _course_ she’s choosing Lannister over him, the handsome assholes always end up winning. “It looks to me like you’re bothering Brienne here when she’d much prefer to be left alone. Did no one ever teach you to leave someone alone when they clearly want you to?”

“Fuck off, Lannister,” he growls, glaring at the man. “This is between Brienne and I. Stay out of it. And my name’s _Hunt_.”

Lannister just smiles, cold and sharp and so cruel that he starts wondering how Brienne can put up with him. “Oh, Punt. You’re not very good at this, are you?”

Brienne nods before turning her own cold gaze back to Hyle. “Jaime’s right. Leave me alone, Hyle. I’m not interested in talking to you, not after what you did, and I’m especially not interested in hearing you make half-assed excuses for your behaviour now that I know for sure you don’t mean any of them.”

“This is ridiculous,” Hyle snaps back, gesturing with one hand at Lannister, still smiling smugly next to Brienne. “We were getting along fine until he came along. Now you’re going to brush me off just because he says you should? I get that he’s good-looking, but that’s not a good enough reason to ignore someone else’s interest in you.”

Brienne gapes at him incredulously while Lannister throws back his head and laughs long and loud, and Hyle can feel his face burning red with the humiliation of it. “Oh, we were getting along? That’s not how I saw things at all, Hyle. For fuck’s sake, pull your head out of your ass and recognize that I’m not interested.”

“Exactly,” Lannister says, tilting his head to the side, and he’s not laughing anymore. “If Brienne wants to be left alone, then leave her alone. I may only have one hand, but I’m still fully capable of beating you in a fight.”

A shiver runs down his spine at the threat, and he nods slowly before backing away and nearly colliding with someone else—this time Oberyn Martell, who looks him up and down before gesturing sharply for him to follow. _Great. Just great._

Theon makes eye contact with him from across the room and shakes his head with a meaningful look on his face, and Hyle flings a middle finger in his direction before stomping off after the director while Brienne returns to her conversation with Lannister. Fuck them all, then. Eventually he’ll get his big chance, and then they’ll all be sorry.

Martell rounds on him as soon as they’re both in the hall, his dark eyes glittering with something akin to malice as he looks Hyle up and down before letting out a disdainful snort. “You really think you’re all that, don’t you? You really seem to think Brienne owes you something, though I’m not fully sure what you might have done to deserve...well, anything from her. But I’m warning you, and I’m only going to do this once: if you continue bothering or harassing her, and if I find out you’ve continued to do so despite being warned—and make no mistake, I _will_ find out—then you’re out of a job, and good luck getting a recommendation from us for another one.”

Hyle blanches, because he can’t afford to endure what Martell’s threatening him with. He’s never had a role outside the ensemble before, which means he’s not exactly a hot commodity on Visway, and he can’t afford to lose out on another job, not if he wants to keep paying the rent. “You can’t do that to me! I _need_ this role.”

Martell just raises an eyebrow, cool and serene and completely unbothered by his protests. “Well, then, leave Brienne alone. She’s one of the leads, and you’re in the ensemble, and while I’m normally all for ensemble appreciation, you’re not as important to the success of this show as she is, and at the end of the day you can be replaced. I won’t warn you again about this. If you don’t leave her alone when she asks you to, there will be consequences.”

Before Hyle can respond, or even gather up his thoughts into something coherent, Martell turns and walks away, leaving him gaping in the middle of the hall. _Shit_ , he thinks, shaking his head. It had been such a brilliant plan, too. If only Brienne hadn’t been so stubborn about things, and if only Lannister hadn’t swept in first to ensure everything Hyle did would look abysmal compared to him.

_Seriously, what’s so special about Lannister? What does he have that I don’t? Looks aren’t everything, and he’s only got one hand! What are women going to do with a guy who only has one hand?_

At that moment, Brienne walks past, still chatting animatedly with Lannister. They’re laughing about something, looking light and carefree and far happier than he is, and his stomach takes that as a cue to curl up in a corner and huddle there shamefully.

Theon comes over to join him, and they watch as Brienne and Lannister leave the theatre together, _still_ talking as they walk away in the same direction. “You blew it,” Theon tells him, with far too much glee in his voice. “She’s not into you, man. It’s like I said, Lannister got there first, and you lost your chance.”

“What does he have that I don’t?” Hyle grumbles, voicing his earlier thoughts aloud. “I have two hands, _and_ I’m just as good a fuck as he is. Maybe even better.”

For some reason, Theon bursts out into hysterical laughter. “Oh, Hyle. He’s got the looks, definitely, but he also has a personality that’s far more engaging than anything you can come up with. He’s interesting, whereas _you_ have never been interesting at any point in your life. If I were Tarth, I’d stick with Lannister, too. Honestly, if I wasn’t already convinced he’s too into her to look elsewhere, I’d try to shoot my own shot with him.”

“Fuck you,” Hyle grumbles, stomping away as Theon continues laughing. “I’m not going to stick around and listen to this shit.”

He’s about to join the rest of the ensemble, hoping at least one of them will be more willing to help him out, but then tiny young Podrick Payne steps out of the group, limping slightly on his injured ankle, and glares so fiercely at Hyle that he’s forced to take a step back, raising his hands as he does. “Whoa, there, Pod buddy. Everything alright?”

“ _No_ ,” the boy hisses, his hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know what you’re playing at with Brienne, but she’s my friend, and I don’t want her to get hurt. You hurt her again, and you’ll have me to answer to. And I promise you, I’m more dangerous than I look.”

The boy turns away again, rejoining the ensemble without a backwards glance, and Hyle’s left reeling from the sheer force of the boy’s anger. _Is everyone on this show completely obsessed with Brienne Tarth? Is that why they’re all defending her so stringently? Gods, it was only a bit of fun!_

Besides, Brienne will be sure to forget all that soon enough. Eventually something will happen, and Lannister will show his true colours, and then it will be Hyle’s turn to swoop in and comfort her when she needs it most. It’s a fail-safe plan, no matter what Theon Greyjoy seems to think. And even tiny, surprisingly intimidating Podrick Payne won’t be able to stop him when he’s got a theatre family heiress—even an Off-Visway one—on his arm and a fortune lying ahead of him.

Everything will work out in his favour eventually. He’s certain of it.

***

 **visway.com @viswaycom**  
Spectacular spectacular! Come with us tomorrow as we head over to observe Moulin Rouge! rehearsals and talk to the cast and crew about the upcoming stage adaptation of the beloved movie!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hyle: wow brienne really doesn't seem to like me for some reason. it must have to do with Jaime Lannister because it's definitely not related to anything I might have done to her in the past.
> 
> please know that I am a pit orchestra person and haven't done any acting since I did the Wizard of Oz when I was 11, so my knowledge of what goes on in rehearsals isn't the greatest. but I am going to fudge it with full confidence, because honestly it's time to embrace our lack of knowledge and pretend we know what we're talking about. 
> 
> next time: brienne has her first interview, fathers are spoken to and discussed, and a comparison is noted during rehearsals.


	6. 2 Months to Opening/Another Hundred People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t the first time Jaime’s spoken of her future on Visway as if it’s a guarantee and not an impossible dream—though less impossible, she supposes, now that she’s made it here once. It’s caught her equally off-guard every time, because _Jaime Lannister_ is standing there telling her about how much he looks forward to seeing where her career on the stage goes with more confidence in his words then her own _father_ had in his whenever he tried to encourage her after another failed audition, another _you’re just not what we’re looking for_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another week, another chapter that ended up being longer than I expected. this one gave me plenty of trouble, but we managed to make it here so let's not fret about that too much.
> 
> a note: uni's started up again for me, so I don't have as much time to write as I'd like to. hoping this isn't going to affect my posting schedule in any way, but it's very possible that I might not be quite as consistent as I have been for the next little while. once things settle into a routine, that might change. of course, I could manage to write more this week and prove this comment wrong, but just letting you know this is in the realm of possibility. 
> 
> no warnings for this chapter that I can think of, although parts of it do mention some of Tywin's worse behaviour rather obliquely. I did wake up way too early this morning though so I might be missing something (if I am, let me know and I'll add it).
> 
> once again, thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this one! if you want to come yell at me, I can also be found on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat). thank you for reading, and enjoy!

_It’s a city of strangers  
Some come to work, some to play  
A city of strangers  
Some come to stare, some to stay…  
-Another Hundred People, Company (2018 West End Revival)_

**Selwyn Tarth:** Hey, sweetheart. How are rehearsals going? 

**Brienne Tarth:** Pretty well, actually! It’s been hard, but I’m enjoying it, and everyone’s been lovely so far

 **Selwyn Tarth:** Well, that’s good to hear! I’m glad you’re enjoying it, these opportunities don’t come around very often! It’s good to savour them on the few occasions they do come to you.  
 **Selwyn Tarth:** How has the Lannister boy been? I know he was a nightmare the last time you worked with him.

 **Brienne Tarth:** Jaime? Jaime’s great, actually. Way better than he was back on Company. He’s actually been super helpful in helping me get through some of the longer days of rehearsal

 **Selwyn Tarth:** Really? I didn’t think Lannisters had it in them to be helpful.

 **Brienne Tarth:** He’s not exactly close with the rest of his family. I don’t know how much he really counts as a Lannister at this point.

 **Selwyn Tarth:** Well, that’s reassuring. How have you been holding up? Preparing for Visway can be tricky, and you’re definitely not used to that level of physical exertion during rehearsals. Murder Ballad isn’t really comparable to something like this.

 **Brienne Tarth:** everything’s been fine. 

**Selwyn Tarth:** Still, do be careful? I saw your friend Podrick got injured already, and I’d rather you not be next.

 **Brienne Tarth:** I won’t be, don’t worry. Ellaria’s great about making sure no one pushes themselves too far. So is Oberyn, actually. The entire creative team has been so caring about everyone, not just the leads or the established names.

 **Selwyn Tarth:** The Martells are a good bunch. I’m not surprised. Much better than certain other theatre families I could name.

 **Brienne Tarth:** I would say don’t go on your anti-Greyjoy vendetta when you come visit, but both the rogue Greyjoys in the cast would probably enjoy it. They’re not big fans of their uncles either.

 **Selwyn Tarth:** Good, good. That means I don’t have to fight them when I come see you perform.

 **Brienne Tarth:** Please don’t fight Asha. She’ll beat you to a pulp.  
 **Brienne Tarth:** You could probably take Theon, but Asha can definitely kill you. 

**Selwyn Tarth:** Don’t worry. I learned my lesson about underestimating young women long ago. I’ll try not to make the same mistake twice.

 **Brienne Tarth:** Good.   
**Brienne Tarth:** How are your own rehearsals going?

 **Selwyn Tarth:** Very well, indeed! Jalabhar has some interesting ideas, and it’s been very fun figuring out how they might work on the stage. I have a feeling you’re going to love it when you come by!

 **Brienne Tarth:** Here’s hoping I get enough time off! Maybe I’ll bring Margaery or Arianne with me, they’re both eager to see it as well. I think Margaery’s friendly with the composer, so that’s more reason to invite her.

 **Selwyn Tarth:** Excellent, excellent! I’m glad to hear you’re making friends in the cast.

 **Brienne Tarth:** This is a very welcoming cast. It’s been easy to do so. And nice, actually. I missed working with casts that actually get along.  
 **Brienne Tarth:** I’m on my way out the door, so I have to go, but I’ll call you later!

 **Selwyn Tarth:** Have fun! I’ll talk to you soon!

***

Brienne’s caught off guard by Jaime greeting her outside the theatre rather than inside it, as he’s started to do over the last two weeks of rehearsal. He smiles as brightly as ever upon her appearance, however, and she’s relaxing before the brief moment of tension even registers.

“I wanted to catch you before you came in today,” he tells her, bounding to his feet and hurrying ahead to grab the door for her. “Varys is here to get pictures for a Visway-dot-com article he’s doing, and I didn’t want you to be caught off-guard by that.”

She smiles gratefully back at him before trailing him down the hall towards the rehearsal rooms. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Jaime just smiles again, broad and glowing in the dimly lit hallway. “Anything I can do to help out a fellow lead. Do you want any interview tips before we head in, or do you think you’re good?”

“Some tips would be great, actually.” She’s done a couple of interviews before, but they’ve mainly been for smaller press sources, and most of them were when she was doing _Murder Ballad_ several years back. An appearance in a major publication is brand new for her.

“Act natural,” he says instantly, before wincing at his own advice. “I know that sounds terrible, but if you’re going to act like someone you’re not, then you need to be very good at it, unless you want the weirnet to overanalyze the interview and pick through every single one of your lies. If you don’t feel comfortable answering a question or aren’t able to, then don’t let anyone pressure you to answer it. They’ll cut a ton of stuff out later, so it won’t be a big deal. And try not to give them too much of yourself? I’m not saying you have to lie, you don’t seem like the type to enjoy that, but don’t go around sharing a ton of personal information. Keep some things for yourself.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“Specific tips for interviewing with Varys: don’t let him get to you. He’s very good at asking probing questions that dig into things you don’t want to talk about, and if you react at all then he won’t let the matter go until you explain. Also, while he’s not the worst about getting too personal in professional interviews, he _will_ cross the line sometimes. Not as often as someone like Baelish, but I’ve seen it happen. He _is_ good at recognizing boundaries, though, and if you tell him to stop a certain line of questioning he’ll do so. Just don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s your friend. He’s a good reviewer, and I like him better than most Visway writers, but he’s definitely not on anyone’s side but his own.”

She nods, running the information through in her head as they step into the rehearsal space. “Alright. Makes sense. I’ll try to remember that.”

Jaime nods once before pulling open the door to the rehearsal room and gesturing for her to enter. “After you, your grace. The court awaits your arrival.”

“You’re an _ass_ ,” she gripes, slapping him on the shoulder as she enters the room and immediately catches sight of a short, bald man in a bright blue suit talking to Oberyn. Across the room, another man is taking pictures as Ellaria walks Addam and Gendry through part of a routine, and for a moment her shoulders tense as the camera flashes.

“You’ve got this,” Jaime murmurs from behind, placing a warm hand on her shoulder and urging her forwards. “Just take a deep breath in and don’t let Varys get to you. And if all else fails, then act.”

She does as he says, drawing in a deep breath before letting it out, slow and steady. Her shoulders drop and she turns to him with a nod, watching as a brilliant smile crosses his face for a moment before they step forward together, ready to face whatever their visitors might throw at them.

Varys steps away from Oberyn almost immediately when he sees them crossing the room, a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes fixed on his face. “Ah, excellent. Your stars have arrived, Oberyn. I hope you don’t mind if I steal them for a while so as not to interrupt your rehearsal too much.”

“Not at all,” Oberyn replies, shooting them both a wink before he hurries away to gather up Arianne and Margaery for a conversation about something else. Brienne swallows heavily as he leaves, but then Jaime’s hand returns to her shoulder, and she breathes in again before meeting Varys’s false smile with one of her own.

“Why don’t we make ourselves more comfortable?” Varys offers, gesturing to a few chairs pushed against the wall. “We won’t get in anyone’s way, either.”

He sets off before either she or Jaime can protest, taking a chair and pushing it around until it faces two others. They all sit and study each other, Brienne warily watching as Varys’s narrowed eyes sweep over her. He nods once and turns to give Jaime the same once-over, then sits back slightly, his expression settling into the smile she’s seen him wear during a thousand live interviews. She draws in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as Jaime’s hand settles on her shoulder once again, his firm grasp holding her steady against the assault of Varys and his dangerously assessing gaze.

“So,” the editor of Visway’s biggest news source says, clapping his hands together before pulling a recording device out of his pocket and turning it on. “Tell me, how are you two feeling so far? This must be a stressful experience for you both.”

“It’s definitely a great deal of work,” Jaime says, his gaze darting over to Brienne as he speaks. “But we’re both hard workers, and we both love the theatre and this show enough to be willing to put in that level of effort, even if it means we’re heading home sore and tired at the end of every day.”

She nods, trying not to think about the fact that Jaime’s hand is still resting on her shoulder. “I agree, it’s not easy. But as Jaime said, we’re both willing to put in the work, and the cast and creatives have been incredibly supportive of us whenever we stumble or need help.”

Varys inclines his head, something easing in his expression until his smile appears almost natural. “A supportive community is always an excellent thing to have. Were you two fans of the original movie? And if so, what was your reaction to hearing it was being made into a stage musical?”

“I was a huge fan of the movie,” Brienne begins when Jaime hesitates. “So I was delighted to hear they were making it into a musical—though I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to be involved in it at the time.”

“I also loved the movie,” Jaime adds, “and I thought it would make an amazing stage show from the very beginning, so when this project was announced I quite honestly thought it was about time. I’d hoped to be involved in it, but then my accident happened and things didn’t seem like they were going to work out.”

“But here you are,” she says, smiling at him as his hand squeezes her shoulder.

“Here I am,” he agrees, before turning back to Varys.

“And we’re all grateful for it,” their interviewer says, his eyes darting between their faces and Jaime’s hand on Brienne’s shoulder. “What are you most looking forward to about this show?”

 _What am I looking forward to?_ For some reason, her mind stumbles on the question, but Jaime swoops in to pick it up before the pause grows too long. His hand finally slides off her shoulder, the warmth and the imprint of his fingers gently pressing into her skin lingering well after he’s released his grip on her. “I’m mainly looking forward to coming back to the stage and fulfilling my love of performing again, but I’m also looking forward to being able to say I worked with Ellaria Sand after this. It’s always been one of my dreams, and I feel like I’m one step closer to retiring now that I’ve checked that off my list.”

“Don’t retire _too_ soon,” she tells him teasingly, nudging his shoulder with her own. “We’d miss you. For myself, I’m most looking forward to sharing this story with audiences and seeing how they respond to the changes made. I personally think fans of the movie will love it, and I’m very excited for them to get to see how our work has come together once we get onto the stage.”

“Good answer,” Jaime mumbles in her ear as Varys nods, before straightening quickly when the other man’s eyes narrow slightly.

“One more question,” Varys says pleasantly, though there’s a keen glint in his gaze that Brienne doesn’t fully trust. “How do you feel that you relate most to your characters?”

“I think I’m similar to Cyrenna in that we’re both very quick to rush into feelings, both positive and negative, without really considering the consequences,” Brienne replies, a little quicker than she’d meant to. She deliberately doesn’t look at Jaime as she continues, “She’s quite reckless with her assumptions, and while I try not to be the same way, I know I’ve let my first impression of people guide my feelings about them far too many times in my life.”

She’s still not looking at Jaime, but she does hear how he pauses before he answers for himself. “I relate most to Sebaston in that I’ve had a few experiences in my past that made me quite cynical about love. I started off believing in true love like he did, and then ended up not believing in it at all for quite a few years. I’m hoping, though, that I’ll end up believing again as he does—though ideally I’ll avoid his fate.”

Varys laughs, turning off the recording before rising and reaching out to shake their hands in turn. “Yes, that wouldn’t especially appeal to me either. Thank you very much, both of you. I’ll let you go now, before your director gets irritated with me for hogging his leads for too long.”

They both nod and stand up while he walks away, and Brienne barely manages to wait until Varys is out of hearing range before turning to Jaime, biting her lip. “How did I do? Was that alright?”

“You did great!” he says, beaming at her so bright it’s like looking at the sun. “Varys was being a little weird there, but that had nothing to do with either of us...I don’t think. Still, you kept a cool head and didn’t hesitate to answer a question when I got thrown by it, and whenever you were stumped by one you didn’t let it show. It’s like you’ve been doing these things for years rather than a month or so.”

She flushes and ducks her head to avoid looking at him while he keeps smiling at her, brilliant and warm. “Thanks for the advice earlier. It really helped to have an idea of what things were going to be like with Varys.”

“Varys is easy,” Jaime says, before frowning. “Well, actually, he’s not. He knows his shit, and he’s not an easy person to fool. He can ask some hard questions, though these early interviews are going to mainly be softballs that are meant to ramp up excitement about the show. But he’s easier to interview with than Baelish—though you’ll probably be lucky enough to avoid him for a while; he tends to stay away from the Martells after Oberyn threatened to fling him out a window when he published a truly _despicable_ article during Elia’s divorce. At least Varys respects your boundaries—mostly.”

“I haven’t heard anything good about Baelish,” Brienne admits, smiling a little sheepishly. “Here’s hoping I never have to deal with him at all, then.”

“I wouldn’t be so hopeful,” he says with a heavy sigh. “You’re probably going to be on Visway for a long time after this, and it’ll be impossible to completely avoid one of the major theatre publications for the entire rest of your career.”

This isn’t the first time Jaime’s spoken of her future on Visway as if it’s a guarantee and not an impossible dream—though less impossible, she supposes, now that she’s made it here once. It’s caught her equally off-guard every time, because _Jaime Lannister_ is standing there telling her about how much he looks forward to seeing where her career on the stage goes with more confidence in his words then her own _father_ had in his whenever he tried to encourage her after another failed audition, another _you’re just not what we’re looking for_. 

Considering it wasn’t that long ago that they were still at odds with each other, his certainty is baffling. His faith in her outstrips any of their castmates’. And on top of that, he’d made a point of seeking her out this morning and guiding her through the interview with Varys, like a friend would. Or so she imagines. She hasn’t had all that many friends in her life before now 

_Shit. Am I_ friends _with Jaime now?_

While she’s still processing that thought, Jaime claps her on the shoulder and tells her he’s being called away for rehearsals. She nods, a little distantly, and watches as he makes his way over to where Margaery and Oberyn are waiting for him. He laughs loud and free and easy at something Oberyn says to him, looking far happier than she ever saw him on _Company_ , and something stirs deep in Brienne’s gut at the sight of him glowing gold and delighted, his green eyes sparking with a hint of mischief. 

Her mind really shouldn’t be reeling as much as it is. She’s not exactly good at connecting with people, though, which is why her list of those she’d hesitantly call ‘friends’ is abysmally short when compared to those of people like Arianne and Margaery. There’s a few people—Pod, the Stark sisters—who she talks to fairly often and has introduced to her father as friends, but they’re not especially close, not in the way best friends in movies always seem to be. She’s not sure she even knows what goes intomaintaining a close friendship. How is she supposed to know what to do with that type of emotional bond? 

And it’s happened so quickly, too. Only a month has passed, yet she’s already wondering if this is the closest friendship she’s ever had. Her connection with Jaime has her feeling like she’s standing on a half-finished set piece, the structure too unsteady to be trusted with her full weight. It would be so easy for her to say or do the wrong thing and send the entire thing crumbling to the ground, to reset the scene and leave them at odds again, whatever bond they might have forged lost because she didn’t know how best to tend it.

She’s not needed in rehearsals for a little while—Oberyn’s running through a few things with Jaime and Margaery this morning, and Ellaria’s working with the ensemble all day—so no one stops her when she stumbles out of the room and into the hallway, one hand fumbling in her pocket for her phone as she goes.

Her texts with her dad right before she’d left her apartment are still open when she turns her phone on, so it’s a matter of seconds for her to click his contact information and call him. As she leans against the wall and waits for him to answer, she wonders if this is something she’d call a friend about, normally. But most of the people she calls _friends_ are really acquaintances at best, and none of them are as likely to understand _why_ the possibility of friendship with Jaime Lannister is such a—distressing? Confusing? Terrifying?—concept.

“I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” Selwyn Tarth says when he picks up the phone, bypassing his usual greeting to his daughter in favour of concern. “Brienne, is everything alright?” 

“Yeah,” she says, the word coming out strangled before she clears her throat and straightens slightly. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Well, mostly.”

“You sure?” he asks. “Nothing’s happened with the show, has it? I didn’t think the Martells were the sort to make casting changes this late in the process, but know I’m proud of you for trying if they did decide to change the direction they’re going.”

“No, it’s nothing to do with that,” she snaps, biting down on her tongue before she can say anything else. She loves her father, and their relationship is leagues better than it used to be, but he’s never moved past the tendency to say thoughtless things without understanding how deeply they can cut. It’s kept her from telling him things in the past, and she’s beginning to wish she’d let the matter lie now. Shouldn’t she be able to trust that he, of all people, would have a little faith in her talents? “Forget I said anything.”

There’s a long pause, during which her hopes of him noticing her irritation slowly shrivel and die, and she’s on the verge of muttering a terse goodbye and hanging up when her dad finally speaks, his words tentative and halting. “Something’s clearly bothering you, though. Are you _sure_ everything’s okay?”

“I think Jaime and I might actually be friends,” she blurts out before she can stop herself. “And I know that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but...I don’t really know how to explain why I’m struggling with it so much. I just felt like I needed to talk to someone about it.” 

Selwyn pauses again, long enough for her to imagine the furrow of his brow, the baffled frown that she’s seen him wear a thousand times over. “Well, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? It’s certainly better than hating him.”

“I know,” she says with a sigh, letting her head fall back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I didn’t expect it, is all. I came onto this production with an idea of who he was in my mind and then that got overturned and now we might be friends?”

There’s more she could say, more wishes she could talk over with him. But _yes dad, I’m making friends easily_ is one of the little lies she’s told him a thousand times to assuage his vague concern whenever he remembered to turn it in her direction, and she can’t burst the careful illusion she created by telling him her lack of close friendships is making this so much more difficult to get a handle on. It’d turn into him being hurt by her lies, angry that she didn’t trust him enough during the time he was most distant from her, and she has no desire to deal with that on top of her already swirling emotions. 

He wouldn’t understand even if she _did_ tell him. He’s a welcoming, boisterous man, who draws people in with a charming smile and a booming laugh and has never understood how hard it is to sit in the shadows and watch everyone else go by. He has no idea why she’s so dubious in her ability to be a good friend to _anyone_ , whether it’s Jaime or Obara or Sansa Stark. And she doesn’t want to hear whatever well-intentioned but ultimately useless reassurance he’ll undoubtedly offer her should she say something. It won’t help quell her fears or make it easier to embrace this.

“Things can be confusing sometimes,” Selwyn says, with the air of someone who has no idea what he’s talking about but is plowing ahead anyways. “Your understanding of Jaime has gone through a lot of changes in very little time. It makes sense that you’d be caught off guard by this. It’s probably best if you just take it in stride and don’t spend too much time worrying about things you didn’t expect to happen.”

Brienne’s not sure how much of her dad’s statement is fatherly wisdom and how much of it is absolute bullshit, but she sighs and pushes away from the wall without further comment. “I suppose you’re right. Thanks for indulging me in that. I’ll let you get back to your rehearsals now.”

“Anytime,” he tells her. “Enjoy the rest of your day, and try not to overthink this too much, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” she replies, before hanging up and tucking her phone back into a pocket. There was a time when she wouldn’t be able to take her dad’s _anytime_ at face value, but having a steady partner has done a lot to even him out over the last few years. It’s also helped to—mostly—repair their relationship after it fractured during her late teens when she came to realize how little she could rely on her dad for, well, anything. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever fully forgive him for the past and his all-too-frequent carelessly hurtful words, but she’s happy enough to actually have her dad as part of her life that she lets most of it pass by without comment.

And he has a point this time, anyway. Her understanding of Jaime has already changed, and she doesn’t exactly want to _give up_ his friendship now that she’s got it. There’s not much point in worrying about the past anymore, and it’s not like any of this is a bad thing. Jaime’s astonishingly funny when he’s not trying to cut people down, and his experience has given him plenty of knowledge she’s already been leaning on and will likely continue to rely on throughout her time in _Moulin Rouge!_ Even his insistence on calling her _your grace_ and his exaggeratedly courtly manner have been ridiculously enjoyable and amusing—not that she’ll ever tell him that, of course.

Arianne pokes her head out into the hallway and smiles widely when she catches sight of Brienne still standing there. “Hey,” she says, jogging over to come stand next to Brienne. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”

“I just needed to make a quick phone call,” Brienne tells her, offering a small smile in return. “Do they need me in there? I was about to head back in…”

“No,” Arianne says with a wave of her hand. “Oberyn’s still busy with Jaime and Marg. I didn’t see you, though, and I was worried Hunt had been a jackass again and chased you away.”

“Oh, nothing like that,” Brienne says, her smile widening as warmth flares in her chest. “He’s been avoiding me since Oberyn told him off, though he’ll probably try again sooner or later. But he’s not important, and I’m going to try my best to keep him from getting to me.”

Arianne nods, tossing an arm over Brienne’s shoulders. “Good plan. Hunt’s too boring for you to waste your time fretting about. What’s _not_ boring, however, is watching Jaime and Margaery pretend to flirt with each other and fail miserably, so let’s head back in there and make fun of them for it.”

“That sounds like an even better plan,” Brienne says with a grin, and Arianne’s face lights up as they head back into the rehearsal space, their arms around each other’s shoulders, and the empty hallway left behind in favour of the laughter and life their castmates are sharing. 

***

 **Arianne Martell @arianne_martell**  
Good times today rehearsing for @moulinrougebway with the brilliant cast and creatives! Got to watch @addamarbrand and @greyjoy-asha make absolute fools of themselves together (sorry, you can’t see the video—spoilers!)

 **Arianne Martell @arianne_martell**  
 ** __** _Replying to @arianne_martell_  
And I can reassure you that yes, our leads are going to have much better chemistry than they did in Riverrun (nice job, @j_lannister and @btarth ! love you both!). Can’t wait to see you there when we start previews in two months!

***

Jaime’s sitting against the wall of the rehearsal room, watching as Oberyn walks Brienne and Obara through the staging for Nature Boy, when Addam appears and sits down next to him, his lips curling upwards as he follows Jaime’s gaze across the room until his own eyes land on Brienne. 

“How’re things going with your lovely co-star?” Addam asks, with enough innuendo in his voice that Jaime tears his gaze away to send him a sharp look. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I’m just saying you two seem to have become remarkably friendly considering you were convinced she hated you the day I joined the cast.”

“Things are going fine,” Jaime mutters, shaking his head and turning back to the rehearsals playing out in front of him. “And there’s nothing going on, no matter what you imply. It just so happened that we realized we had a lot of things in common once we’d cleared the air. You’ve been spending too much time around Margaery if you think there’s anything else happening with us.”

Addam frowns, but says nothing else for a moment. Jaime doesn’t bother insisting further, knowing full well his friend doesn’t believe him and any other denials would be futile. He’s not sure what, exactly, Margaery’s been saying to the rest of the cast, but they all seem to think _something’s_ happening between him and Brienne, and nothing he’s done has been enough to dissuade them from thinking that way yet.

He supposes they have a point, in that he _did_ bond with his co-lead remarkably quickly. But that doesn’t mean anything. Arianne and Asha also became close friends within the same time period, and no one’s going around implying _they’re_ interested in each other like they are with him and Brienne. 

“Did I ever ask you about your time in Lorath?” he asks abruptly, turning back to Addam as the thought strikes him. “We’ve been so busy lately that I can’t remember.”

“I don’t remember either,” Addam says, his brow furrowing. “But it doesn’t matter all that much; I can tell you again. If you want to hear it, that is. I’m sure your life was much more interesting than the standard stories about gruelling schedules and petty arguments between exhausted castmates and the time I accidentally pretended to kill the wrong person on stage.”

“I don’t know,” Jaime counters, his sides shaking with laughter. “That sounds pretty interesting, and much more enjoyable than my stories about moping around my apartment, going to therapy, arguing with my father, and then coming back home to mope some more. At least your stories have the potential to be humorous. My last two years have been filled with sad drama fit for a really depressing film that ends up winning a bunch of Oscars for being ‘meaningful.’”

Addam inclines his head, conceding the point. “True, true. Although you’ve had a front-row seat to the stories surrounding your father’s recent financial struggles, which is either _more_ depressing or totally fascinating.”

“I’d say more depressing, if we’re gonna be completely honest about things,” Jaime says, his voice little more than a murmur. “He’s...my father hasn’t been dealing with all this very well. He’s furious that I chose to work on a Martell show, and the last time we spoke he blamed my leaving the company for his troubles.”

“I don’t think your father has anyone but himself to blame,” Addam says in a low voice. “His business practices aren’t exactly ethical, and he’s known to overwork performers to the point of collapse. A Visway schedule is hard, sure, but there’s no reason for your leads to be endangering themselves in order to keep up. That’s what we have understudies for.”

Jaime gives a quick nod, his mind wandering to his own understudy, who has yet to appear while he’s around—although Oberyn had reassured Jaime he’d be by in the next week or two. “I know there’s the odd fan who gets pissy because the star they wanted to see wasn’t able to come on stage, but most audiences are perfectly reasonable about actors taking a show or two off for their health. But he thinks understudies are going to make him less of a profit, so the only reason for him to not send a lead on is if they’re on death’s door. And I sometimes doubt he’d accept even that as an excuse.”

“It’s all about the profit with Tywin Lannister, isn’t it?”

Jaime nods again, letting his eyes drop down to the hands—both real and fake—resting on his knees. “It’s why the losses are so hard for him to bear. He got too comfortable with his position as the reigning king of Visway once I knocked out Aerys Targaryen for him, and now he’s not able to adjust to changing times because he thinks the things that worked when he started producing will still work now.”

“But they don’t,” Addam points out, a little unnecessarily since Jaime knows this already. “The reactions to the rumours about his _West Side Story_ revival are proof of that fact. And now Dany Targaryen’s buying out his theatres, and he’s gonna be left with nothing if he doesn’t act quickly.” He pauses, before turning to Jaime with a worried expression. “D’you think he’s going to do something in time?”

“Oh, he’ll do _something_ ,” Jaime mutters with a short, humourless laugh. “Whether or not it’ll be useful is a whole other question. But there’s no doubt that he’ll act, and I have no doubt that he’ll end up hurting someone in the process. He’s pretty good at that part.”

“Last time he ended up in this sort of situation, you were the one who got hurt,” Addam says, very quietly. His left hand twitches, then stills, then reaches out and picks up Jaime’s prosthetic hand. “Do you think it’ll be different this time?”

“It was an accident last time,” Jaime says with a shrug, refusing to meet Addam’s gaze as he stares hard at Brienne, now talking to Oberyn about something and nodding as she speaks. “Some might even argue I brought it upon myself. My father just decided to attempt to hurt me after the fact by trying to take me away from the one thing that’d been making me happy.”

Addam shakes his head, his fingers squeezing Jaime’s false hand, and for a moment he wishes it was real, that he could feel his friend’s gentle touch, far kinder than anything his father had ever given him. “No, Jaime. He did hurt you. He’s been hurting you your whole life, and you just haven’t realized it.”

Jaime’s blinking back tears before he realizes what’s happening, and Addam doesn’t hesitate before pulling him in and letting him bury his head against his friend’s neck. Addam’s right, of course. Tywin Lannister has done nothing but hurt his children since his wife died, and Jaime’s spent enough of the last two years in therapy to know that all too well by now. But there’s always a part of him that whispers about how he was never hurt so badly as Tyrion was, that the things his father would have called _weaknesses_ with a mocking sneer were not so obvious with him, that he has no right to claim he’s among those Tywin Lannister has harmed. And he’s wrong, he _knows_ he’s wrong, but it’s an easy trap to fall into.

He keeps his face pressed against Addam’s shoulder for a long moment after his tears subside, terrified to look up and see his castmates, Oberyn, _someone_ standing over him with a mocking expression on their face. His father would be bitterly disappointed to see him like this, wounded and in need of a friend’s comfort. 

But his father isn’t here, and Jaime told himself when he joined this cast that he would never care about what his father might think again. So he draws back, offers Addam a tentative smile, and slowly wipes the tears away, refusing to rush the action in case someone walks by and sees, refusing to hide what his father always wanted him to keep hidden, what he’s taught himself to suppress over the years because his father wanted him to.

“Thank you,” he says to Addam once he’s done, letting his head fall down to rest against Addam’s shoulder. “I think...I think I needed to hear that.”

“Well, I’ve only known you for half your life,” his friend responds with a quick grin that doesn’t quite mask the worry still in his eyes. “I’ve gotta take advantage of that somehow, even if it means making you a little uncomfortable sometimes.”

Jaime laughs, shaking his head slightly as he does. “I’ve missed you,” he replies after a moment, letting his gaze wander back to where Oberyn appears to be wrapping up with Brienne and Obara. “It’s nice to have my friend back in town.”

Having Addam back is...not a weight off, exactly, but more a lightening of the load. He can talk to Addam in a way he can’t really talk to anyone else. They already know each other’s deepest secrets, have _been_ each other’s deepest secrets. His friend’s return to Westeros isn’t going to stop his father from trying to find new ways to lure Jaime back to the company, isn’t going to make the gruelling Visway schedule any easier to bear, isn’t going to change the fact that Jaime’s still afraid he’ll mess up and make Brienne hate him again. But he at least has someone he can talk to about it now—although he hopes that someday he can share some of this with Brienne, too. He thinks he’d like to be friends with her even once all this ends.

“It’s nice to be back,” Addam tells him with a fond grin. “I’ve missed being able to bother you at all hours by randomly showing up at your apartment.”

“Okay, I _didn’t_ miss that.”

“Rude,” Addam fires back, folding his arms and sulking exaggeratedly. “Your apartment should always be open to me. Especially after I’ve been away for two years and have barely spoken to you in that time.”

“You know my doors are always open to you,” Jaime says in a mocking grumble, bumping his shoulder up against Addam’s. “Except when I’m asleep. Then it turns into breaking and entering.”

“You always have to ruin my fun.”

Jaime’s about to respond when Oberyn steps away from Brienne and Obara and, grinning broadly, yells, “Backstage Romance!” to the room at large, which sets off a round of whoops among the cast members lingering around the walls. “Addam, Asha, get your asses up here and show everyone what Ellaria’s been teaching you these last few weeks.”

Addam shakes his head and offers Jaime another grin before bounding to his feet and hurrying to the centre of the room, where Oberyn’s pulled over a chair and is gesturing for Asha to take a seat. Obara has gone over to join her cousin and Margaery on the far side of the room, but Brienne makes her way over to sit by Jaime, as is starting to become a habit with them.

They exchange nods, but remain silent as Asha begins to sing, sitting alone in the centre of the room as Oberyn draws back to stand by Nymeria at the piano and Addam lingers off to the side, awaiting his cue to come in. Jaime hasn’t seen whatever late night rehearsals that have brought the opening of the number together, so he leans forward and watches eagerly as Asha half-sprawls in the chair, drawing out each syllable before she rises to her feet and Oberyn signals for Addam to step towards her.

They prowl around each other for a moment before Addam retreats to the chair and carefully raises his leg over the back of it until his foot rests on the seat. He barely stifles a grin as Asha comes over to join him, one hand going to the back of his neck as she stamps her foot against the ground. 

“They’re so...close,” Brienne says faintly next to Jaime, her gaze fixed on the pair as Addam drapes himself over the chair with Asha looming over him while continuing to sing. “We don’t have to get that close, do we?”

“Not in quite the same way, no,” Jaime murmurs, offering her a quick smile before turning back to the rehearsal. “Our stuff is intimate, but not quite so sexually charged as what they have to do.”

He deliberately doesn’t add that intimacy is harder to play up than sexuality sometimes. The dance Addam and Asha share is easy to make charged, with all its closeness and tangled limbs and hands running up and down bodies. He and Brienne have to make a romance convincing, which requires subtle gestures and passionate expressions and tender touches. And they _have_ to sell it. Their connection is what the show’s being billed on, and it’s what audiences are coming to see. At the end of the day, Addam and Asha share a few brief moments of intense physical contact, but Jaime and Brienne have to make the show’s emotional pulse tick.

But Brienne is already intimidated enough by the fact that she’ll be making her Visway debut in three months, when the show opens at last. She doesn’t need him putting additional pressure on her by telling her these sorts of things. And besides, it’s not like she’s done _badly_ during their rehearsals together. They’ve kept up with each other well, and when he watches her face it’s easy for him to get caught up in the love story, to forget he’s Jaime Lannister and begin living in Sebaston’s mind instead. It’s easy to believe that whatever they share is real, and not an act they’re preparing to put on for an audience.

Asha vaults over the chair and pivots to catch Addam’s leg as he lifts it before pulling away and luring her after him, a cool smirk on his lips that keeps threatening to turn into laughter. When his turn to sing comes, he catches Asha’s jaw and urges her backwards, and her grin as he does is a little too wide to be appropriate for the action. But it’s better that they work these things out in rehearsal, which is why Jaime watches Oberyn shake his head, a wry grin on his face, and let them continue without comment. And there _is_ humour in it—the lyrics are half-nonsense lifted from some pop song he remembers from ten years ago, and he doesn’t believe for an instant that his two castmates have any interest in each other—but they can’t express that in front of an audience unless they’re trying to parody themselves, and Jaime doubts that’s what Willas and Oberyn are trying to do.

They dance back over to the chair, Addam straddling Asha’s lap before he pulls away once again, this time seizing her hand and pulling her along with him. Their dance continues, turning from sensual into a more proper dance as Gendry, Arys, and Quentyn wander into the scene, and then the rest of the cast begins to sing as well until Oberyn nods to Nymeria and she cuts the music off.

The scene fades quickly as Oberyn moves to give Addam and Asha notes, the tension dissipating along with the piano and the dance. The cast is laughing easily again, and conversations continue where they left off. Margaery darts over and pulls Brienne away while offering Jaime a wink, and he smiles after them before returning his gaze to the chair, now sitting alone and abandoned in the middle of the room.

His mind wanders back to when he and Brienne had first begun rehearsing Elephant Love Medley, and the energy that crackled through the room even well after Ellaria called them over to give notes. The feeling of Brienne’s hand wrapped around his wrist had lingered for hours, and he hadn’t been able to rid himself of the lingering imprint of her impossibly blue eyes boring into his as she sang at him, trying to convince his character to take a chance on love for once, to recklessly throw away his reservations and take this one thing for himself.

Sebaston, not Jaime. He should specify that part.

It’s as he didn’t say to Brienne earlier, he supposes. Romantic tension plays very differently, and can have a very different impact on the actors playing it. He’d thought that sensual dances like the one he’d just witnessed would be much harder to pull off when he first began acting, and he’s been proven wrong time and time again in his career when the intimate, romantic moments have been the ones to trip him up instead. Brienne’s inexperience means she’s still not fully certain how to add the subtleties that _really_ make the relationship between the characters believable, and everything is turned up to the maximum as a result. That’s what’s causing the weird swooping feeling he gets in his stomach after they rehearse together, and it’ll only get better with time.

Oberyn finishes giving his notes to Addam and Asha and calls for them to reset the scene, and Jaime shakes himself out of his thoughts in order to focus on rehearsals once again. The run hasn’t even begun yet, and things are only going to get more intense as the show goes on. He can’t afford to get hung up on the little details now, not when there’s still so much to do.

Not when his father is still out there, waiting for any sign of weakness in his eldest son so he can seize it and use it to drag Jaime back to the rest of his family, the one place Jaime has no desire to return to now that he’s finally escaped from it. 

***

From: Tywin Lannister tywinlann@lannisterorg.com  
To: Varys varys@visway.com  
Re: WSS and Jorah Mormont

Unacceptable. I will not stand for the publication of this article, and you will face consequences if you proceed with it anyways. The allegations you intend to put forward are slanderous lies, and it is widely known that Ms. Targaryen cannot be trusted in any regard. She is as mad and dangerous as her father, if not worse.

As for your point regarding casting, no, I will not consider it. Ms. Baratheon is an extremely accomplished actress and will be delightful as Meria, and Mr. Mormont is one of the most respected actors on Visway. There are no Dornish actors with the same strong resumes as my current stars, with the exception of Elia Martell, who is already occupied with another show and is far too weak a performer to be able to pull off what this role would require for her. 

I fail to comprehend your statement about the staging. My brother has done an excellent job in revitalizing _West Side Story_ and making it better suit this modern age, and if I were to ask Olenna Tyrell I am certain she would agree with me. As for the attack on Alyse, I think explicitly staging it is an excellent call, and remember I did not ask for your advice on the matter. This so-called controversy is merely fools on Twitter trying to be the next ones to topple a theatre empire, and they will never be able to truly hurt a company as powerful as the Lannister Organization. 

And no, your suggestion about putting on newer shows will not be considered. I will not sully the Lannister theatre legacy by putting on shows meant for children, no matter how successful they may be. Interest will fade soon enough, and then our efforts will pay off.

I am tired of dealing with your insistence on publishing what you call the ‘truth’ in an attempt to damage my reputation. I will not warn you again: do not release this article or you will find yourself out of a job.

From: Varys varys@visway.com  
To: Tywin Lannister tywinlann@lannisterorg.com  
Re: WSS and Jorah Mormont

You do understand that Daenerys Targaryen is putting on two of the biggest shows on Visway this season? And that she’s also from a respected theatre family—her father and eldest brother aside, of course? Plus her work is being endorsed by people like Stannis Baratheon and Olenna Tyrell, whereas you only have Jon Arryn on your side and even he seems reluctant to step in and support you these days.

I would hesitate to describe _Aegon_ as a show made for children, particularly when it achieved so much critical acclaim and is still widely loved even close to four years later. Those very shows you dismiss are the ones making money right now, Tywin. I thought you’d realize that, since you’re apparently such a capable businessman.

Your brother’s staging of that scene is going to earn you considerable ire from the Visway community, as attitudes are very much shifting away from those that would allow that sort of thing. Furthermore, by ‘modernizing’ _West Side Story_ , you are very much missing the point of it. May I offer you this article as an example? (link: _visway.com/why-west-side-story-isnt-about-dorne-at-all_ )

My point regarding casting was that your refusal to cast any Dornish actors in roles meant for Dornish people has drawn plenty of ire in your direction. There are plenty of extraordinarily talented actors on the scene, and the fact that you’re struggling to find them is more indicative of your own failures than anything else. And as for Mr. Mormont, well, we shall see what people say about him once I release my article—which I will, no matter what threats you fling at me. I am one of the most respected theatre publishers on Visway. You have no power to fire me or threaten my job, none at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter brought to you by complicated parental relationships.
> 
> despite the visway.com publication being very much borrowed from real life's [broadway.com](https://www.broadway.com), Varys himself borrows nothing from real life people. baelish doesn't either, although I wouldn't be surprised to hear he has quite a bit in common with major gossip sites irl. I wouldn't know, because I don't care about celebrities enough to read them. I am also very out of touch with pop culture, which doesn't help.
> 
> the song [backstage romance](https://open.spotify.com/track/6E0Gc6lAZ3AzDsWoldmHRC) is what I like to call an exercise in musical whiplash. if you listen to it, you'll understand what I mean. the staging of the beginning is also hilarious, although I can't link you to it here because I probably shouldn't be authorizing the use of bootlegs (feel free to go find bootlegs. it's fairly ridiculous that the theatre industry is so insistent on not releasing pro shots of shows because 'people won't want to come see the real thing' or whatever. it could help keep the industry afloat during times like these, and it's also blatantly not true. seeing the _Hamilton_ proshot just made me want to see _hamilton_ live more. but I will save this rant for another time, because we don't need me to hijack these notes any further.).
> 
> next time: rehearsals shift location, something is revealed, and there's a few visitors to Sunspear Theatre.


	7. 6 Weeks to Opening/Dust and Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They enter the house and find seats in the front row right as Brienne takes her first steps onto the stage, and her expression is so awestruck that he can feel the magic of the theatre again, the magic that first drew him to Visway as a child and kept him coming back year after year despite Aerys and his father and his hand and everything else he’d endured. Oberyn whoops loudly from his position in the audience as Briene stares at the glittering set, at the bright lights shining down onto the stage, and he can faintly hear muffled cheering from the wings as the rest of the cast celebrates the moment along with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we go again.
> 
> major warning for this chapter: there is discussion of sexual assault and pedophilia in the second half of it, starting from the second article in the chapter. everything is only discussed obliquely and no particular details are given, but be careful anyways. unfortunately, this is being pulled from real life events (which I'll discuss more in the end notes).
> 
> also if you're a hardcore Jorah Mormont fan you're probably not going to like this chapter very much. he may only be a background figure, but it's not kind to him at all.
> 
> once again, thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this! 
> 
> thank you for reading, and enjoy!

_So easy to close off  
Place the blame outside  
Hiding in my room at night  
So terrified  
All the things I could have been  
But I never had the nerve  
Life and love  
I don’t deserve…  
-Dust and Ashes, Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812_

_**Moulin Rouge!**_ **Cast Gears Up Ahead Of Opening Night**  
Varys for Visway.com  
Features August 26th, 2019

The stage adaptation of the film _Moulin Rouge!_ will be opening on Visway six weeks from now, and excitement is ramping up among both fans and the cast as they prepare for opening night at Sunspear Theatre. Directed by Oberyn Martell, choreographed by Ellaria Sand, and starring Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth with Arianne Martell and Margaery Tyrell tackling key supporting roles, the production has garnered much enthusiasm already among theatre fans. Visway.com spoke with these stage stars and creative geniuses about preparing for opening night and their first exposure to the original film.

“It’s definitely a great deal of work,” Lannister said about his return to the stage after two years away from acting. “But we love the theatre and this show enough to be willing to put in that work, even if it means we’re heading home sore and tired at the end of each day.”

Director Oberyn Martell agreed, adding that he’s been delighted by the commitment the cast has shown so far. “We haven’t made it easy for them, with all the last minute changes to the cast and script, but they haven’t complained, and they’ve really done an amazing job adapting to whatever we throw their way. It’s rare to have a cast this good, and I have no plans to let any of them go until they’ve decided their time here is up.”

“It’s certainly daunting, trying to reproduce something that was done so well the first time around,” Tyrell said about adapting a beloved film to the stage. “I know Barristan Selmy’s performance as the Duke was widely acclaimed, and that’s not an easy thing to live up to. But the creative team encouraged us to put our own spin on the roles, and that’s made it a lot easier. Why bother recreating perfection?”

Despite the gruelling daily rehearsals, the cast is in high spirits about the show’s potential success. “I’m looking forward to sharing this story with audiences and seeing how they respond to the changes,” Visway newcomer Tarth said. “I’m very excited to watch them see how all our work has come together.”

“We’re all fans of the film,” Sand agreed, “and we all want to see this done right. I think our love for the original version will end up making this one better, because we don’t want to see something we have so much passion for butchered, which gives me hope for how fans of the film will enjoy the production.”

As for the initially controversial gender swap, none of the actors are creatives are concerned about it negatively impacting them in the future. “There’s a value in this story, or else we wouldn’t be telling it,” Arianne Martell said. “I don’t think there’s reason to be upset about it unless we handle it badly, which I don’t believe is the case here at all. At the end of the day, what matters is that we set out to tell this story and we stayed true to the heart of the story and the characters everyone loves so much. The changes aren’t going to impact the story, and it’s the most important part of any show, which makes whatever changes we might make essentially irrelevant.”

***

A month and a half before the show opens, Oberyn gathers the cast together at the beginning of rehearsal, a broad smile threatening to burst out of his face as he stands before them.

“I have good news for all of you,” he begins, eyes scanning the room and meeting everyone’s gaze. “The set is finally complete, which means we can actually begin rehearsing on stage!”

Jaime cheers along with the rest of the cast, although he notes that Brienne, standing beside him, doesn’t respond quite as eagerly as everyone else. When he sends a questioning look in her direction, she shakes her head ever so slightly, enough to encourage him to drop the matter and return his attention to Oberyn.

“For those of you who’re making your Visway debuts, rehearsals are gonna be a bit different now that we’re onstage,” Oberyn tells them once the chatter dies down. “Ellaria and I are going to do our best to guide you through the transition, and I’m sure those of you who’ve done this before will help support your castmates as well, but it’s gonna be tricky for a while, learning to navigate with the sets and the props and everything else for the first time. Don’t be afraid to take things slow, as I have it on good authority that this is a fairly cluttered set and hard to deal with. We’re gonna begin with Truth Beauty Freedom Love today, so if you’re in that one, head on out to the stage. The rest of you can meander over whenever you’re ready.”

The cast begins to disperse, and Brienne starts to hurry off alongside them, but Jaime catches her arm before she can go far. “Hey, you alright?” he asks. “You seem a little...concerned by Oberyn’s announcement.”

She opens her mouth, pauses, and nods before finally speaking, determination settling onto her features and wiping away anything else. “I just got worried about what he was saying for a moment. It’s a little intimidating to know I’ll be going onto that stage for the first time. But I’m fine.”

“Good,” he replies, offering her a slight smile as he steps back and lets her go. “Just wanted to make sure. Enjoy your first stage rehearsal on Visway! It’s a pretty exciting experience.”

“I’ll do my best,” she says, tossing a quick grin his way before darting off to catch up with Asha and Obara, who immediately draw her into their conversation without pausing. He watches them walk away for a moment before turning around and nearly colliding with Arianne, who’d come up behind him while he was distracted.

“Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” he says, reaching out to steady her—not that she needs it, as she’s already rolled back onto her heels and is grinning widely up at him. “Did you want something, or…”

“No, nothing at all,” she replies, still grinning as he takes a step backwards with a sheepish smile. “I just find it interesting that you and Brienne have bonded so quickly.”

“We talk a lot.”

It’s a half-assed answer and he can tell Arianne knows it by the dubious expression on her face, but she doesn’t press the matter any further and just smirks at him in a manner so similar to that of her uncle he knows she must have learned it from him. “Of course you do. You gonna head in and watch rehearsals, or do you intend to lurk out here looking pathetic until you end up being needed?”

He splutters in lieu of responding, and she laughs loudly before grabbing his arm and tugging him down the hall towards the stage. “C’mon, let’s go watch your co-lead sing her first notes on a Visway stage. I know you want to see it.”

He does, which is why he only offers token protest as Arianne continues to haul him down the hall without pausing. It’s a remarkable feeling, walking onto that stage for the first time and seeing the set in person instead of in small scale models and sketches scattered across a desk, and Brienne’s about to experience it for the first time ever. 

They enter the house and find seats in the front row right as Brienne takes her first steps onto the stage, and her expression is so awestruck that he can feel the magic of the theatre again, the magic that first drew him to Visway as a child and kept him coming back year after year despite Aerys and his father and his hand and everything else he’d endured. Oberyn whoops loudly from his position in the audience as Briene stares at the glittering set, at the bright lights shining down onto the stage, and he can faintly hear muffled cheering from the wings as the rest of the cast celebrates the moment along with her.

“Well?” Oberyn asks, coming up to the edge of the stage and grinning broadly up at her. “How does it feel to be standing on a Visway stage for the first time?”

“Crazy,” Brienne says slowly, her eyes sparkling with tears and joy as she gapes at everything around her. “And incredible, too. I never thought I’d make it here, and it’s like all my childhood dreams are coming true at once.”

Jaime’s grinning stupidly wide as he watches them exchange a few more words before Oberyn directs Brienne to her starting position after a few final words of encouragement and a pat on the leg, and Asha and Obara bound onto the stage, practically vibrating with excitement as they take their own places. Down in the pit, Nymeria Sand cues up the orchestra, and the music starts up as Brienne monologues, her delighted expression never fading as she gestures to Obara and starts the next part of the scene off.

It’s not the most technically correct version of Truth Beauty Freedom Love he’s seen them do by now—Asha nearly jumps on Brienne’s back in her eagerness at one point, and Obara keeps grinning at them both and nearly missing her cues—but it’s by far the most spirited, and the energy in the room is electric. No audience would be disappointed by the joy in their performance, and none of the cast watching are either, based on how loudly they cheer when the number ends.

Asha finally takes advantage of the moment to seize Brienne in a tight hug and spin her around while laughing and chattering about how exciting the whole situation is, and Jaime continues to beam as he watches them until Arianne elbows him in the side hard enough to bruise.

“You know, spending all your time watching her from a distance creates a very different impression than you think it does,” she says with a pointed look and a tilt of her head.

He frowns at her, finally tearing his eyes from Brienne and Asha to do so. “What are you trying to get at here? Brienne’s a...friend, I think. Why shouldn’t I be happy for her after this achievement?”

Arianne simply arches an eyebrow at him, her expression saying _you know what I mean_ more effectively than any words could. Which is ridiculous, because he _doesn’t_ know what she’s implying. His delight at Brienne’s achievement is no different than the rest of the cast’s, so why is she singling _his_ response out in particular?

Onstage, Oberyn dismisses the ensemble in order to run through the lead-in scene with Brienne, Asha, and Obara a few more times, and the commotion of half the cast vanishing into the wings or hopping down to join Jaime and Arianne in the house is enough to draw Arianne’s focus away from him for a while. He’s only spared further prying by Oberyn signalling for the actors on stage to begin, but he’s keenly aware of Arianne’s gaze boring a hole in the side of his head as he turns his face to the stage once more.

Brienne is near the end of her monologue, about to gesture and cue Obara’s first line, when Jaime’s attention is drawn by a member of the ensemble—Gerold Dayne, if he recalls correctly—sitting down beside him, cold purple eyes fixed on Jaime’s until he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and glances back at the action onstage. Dayne’s a distant cousin of Arthur Dayne, Jaime’s childhood idol—and first crush, though he hadn’t realized that at the time—but by all reports is significantly less agreeable and far more temperamental than his better known cousin.

“Lannister,” Dayne says in a low voice when Jaime doesn’t immediately greet him, his tone dark enough to send a shiver up Jaime’s spine. “Lannister, are you paying attention to me?”

“Try to keep it down, rehearsals are going on,” he tells Dayne, quickly glancing at the other man before turning his gaze back to the stage. “I’m sure whatever you want to talk about can wait for a few minutes.”

“I think this has waited long enough,” Dayne snaps back, keeping his voice quiet enough that Arianne, now engrossed in a conversation with Addam, doesn’t hear. “Tell me, Lannister, what exactly do you think you’re doing here? Did daddy stop paying you whatever your overinflated ego thinks you’re worth and make you go running to some other company to try and get back at him? Did you get tired of being surrounded by people vying for the prize of top asshole and decide to go somewhere with a little less competition?”

The words leave Jaime struck dumb for a long moment. Hatred for his father is a common enough thing on Visway—and for good reason too—but it’s always a surprise to encounter someone who hates him for nothing more than his family name. He’d presumed the Dornish wouldn’t be the sort to group people together based on one arbitrary characteristic after having to endure it so often themselves, but, knowing his family as well as he does, he can’t exactly blame the man for doing so in this particular case.

“Do you have a problem with me?” he finally asks, well aware he’s gaping at Dayne but unable to keep himself from doing so. “Because if you do, I’d appreciate being directly told that, instead of you dancing around the topic and expecting me to know what you mean.”

“You should never have gotten this role,” Dayne whispers, leaning forward to grin in Jaime’s face, his teeth bared and his eyes narrowed. “There’s no place for a Lannister on a production like this one, and especially not for a Lannister that’s planning to run back to daddy any day now. Either go back to your own family, or flounce off to some distant corner of the city to cry about your missing hand, but get away from this show before we get fed up with you being here. Your father’s made it pretty damn clear you won’t be staying away from the family business for much longer.”

He’s been doing his best to avoid following the situation with his father, in hopes that it’ll spare him both the nonsense he’ll surely have to see his family members spewing in his defence and the blatant lies they’ve been telling about his inevitable return to the Lannister Organization—though he thinks those have died down lately. Which means he has no idea what Dayne heard or saw to bring this on, leaving him at a distinct disadvantage in this conversation.

“I’m not going back to my family,” Jaime says, shaking his head. “Whatever my father’s saying this time is a lie.”

“Yeah, and I’m supposed to believe that.” Dayne snorts and rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat and glaring at a distant point on the stage. “You’re a Lannister. Lying’s your specialty.”

 _I’m not like the rest of them_ , Jaime wants to say, but can he? Is it the truth? Can he honestly claim he’s not singing the same tune as his father and brother and uncles and cousins? It took him so many years to realize the secrets his father hid, the many awful things he did that never were _quite_ as terrible as Aerys’s worst acts, never _quite_ dangerous enough to be called criminal. Has his inability to see his family clearly made him a part of all that?

He doesn’t want Dayne and everyone else who’s ever shied away from him due to his last name to be right. He wants to believe he’s not his father’s son, that he’ll be the one who does things better, who solves the underlying problems that’ve been there for years. But does that make him as arrogant as the rest of his family, thinking he’ll be the one to fix all his family’s issues and change the way they do things?

“Got nothing to say to that, I see,” Dayne sneers at him, and Jaime can only lower his head to stare at his real and prosthetic hands next to each other in his lap. What can he say in response to any of this, when he’s not sure himself how true it is?

“Enough,” Brienne’s voice says suddenly, a low murmur coming to his ears under the sound of shuffling feet onstage, and he looks up to see her standing in front of them, her arms folded across her chest as she stares down at Dayne with a severe frown. They’ve been talking quietly enough to avoid attracting anyone else’s attention, but somehow Brienne had seen what was happening and come over to intercede. “You’re allowed to hold grudges against the Lannisters, and no one here will blame you for it, but don’t attack Jaime for things his father did.”

“How do I know he didn’t take part in the rest of his family’s bullshit?” Dayne demands, and the arrogance and mockery has dropped off his face, to be replaced by something stricken, almost pained. “What guarantee do I have that he’s gonna be any different than the rest of his family?”

“He’s not with them now, is he?” Brienne asks, her voice serene even as she continues to glare at Dayne. “If he supported what his father’s been doing, he’d be with his father, not here working for Tywin Lannister’s least favourite family on Visway. I can understand you being upset about having been hurt by Tywin in the past, but it’s unfair to attack other people who had no involvement in what happened. Elia Martell nearly had her career ruined by him and Rhaegar Targaryen, and yet she’s somehow friends with Jaime despite it.”

“Still,” Dayne tries to argue, but she cuts him off immediately with a brisk shake of her head.

“I don’t want to have to bring this up with Oberyn,” she says, glancing over at where the director is busy giving a series of instructions to the ensemble, completely oblivious to their conversation, “but I will if you do something like this again. It’s not fair of you to pin Tywin Lannister’s crimes on people who had no part in them, and Jaime’s been hurt by his father enough already in his life. He doesn’t need to be punished more.”

Dayne nods slowly, his eyes awash with tears as he moves to stand, and Jaime finds himself placing a hand on the younger man’s arm before he can leave. “For what it’s worth, I _am_ sorry for whatever my family made you suffer. I wish I’d walked away from them earlier, and that’s something I’m going to regret for a long time.”

“Your father’s a piece of shit,” Dayne says, some of the fire returning to his expression. “I’m never gonna forgive him for trying to ruin my career. But...Brienne’s right. I shouldn’t have attacked you over it, and I’m sorry for that.”

He sniffs slightly before hurrying away, and Jaime watches him go with a furious churning in his stomach. Part of him wants to be angry at Dayne—would be, if he was the same man he was ten years ago—but it’s hard to blame the other man for his bitterness at being wronged, even if he didn’t handle it very well this time around. 

“Do you know what your father did to him?” Brienne asks in a low murmur, taking the seat next to him—he’d missed Arianne leaving to head over to the stage in his preoccupation with Dayne, it seems. 

“I don’t know his specific situation,” he replies, watching Ellaria pull Dayne aside and speak to him in a low voice before ushering him out of the room. “But I know my father, and I think I can take a pretty good guess at what he tried to pull.”

Brienne nods and says something else, but he doesn’t hear it, lost in a fog as the guilt he’s been trying to ignore for most of his adult life resurfaces, swirling around him in the form of a thousand little voices murmuring in his ear. Now Dayne’s voice joins the chorus, hissing the same things he’s always thought, accelerating the churning in his gut and making his ears ring as all his doubts, his fears, come rushing back with full force.

 _You’ll always be known as a Lannister, as Tywin’s golden boy,_ Aerys Targaryen had said to him all those years ago, when he was young and eager and impressionable and still thought he was worth something to the rest of the world. _I can make you more than that. I can make you into your own man._

In a strange, twisted way, Aerys had been telling the truth. Jaime’s denouncement of Aerys and the subsequent nightmare that unspooled is still what he’s most famous for, even as his father’s name is spat out with as much venom as Aerys’. But it’s always Aerys or Tywin, always one of those two things that people think of when they hear his name. Brienne’s anger at him had been oddly refreshing, because at least it was directed at _him_ , not his father or his last name or one of the few things he’s done that he doesn’t regret. She’d judged him on the basis of his own faults, not on those of the rest of his family.

There’s still that whispering voice, though, the one that asks _am I not as much a part of this as they are?_ Walking away after his accident is all fine and well, but is it enough? He still speaks to his aunt, a few of his cousins, even Tyrion on the rare occasions his brother deigns to call him. It’s not the same as fully condemning his family like he should have years ago when was too self-absorbed and cynical to do so. 

“ _Jaime_ ,” Brienne says sharply, her tone implying this isn’t the first time she’s called his name, and he glances up at her, startled. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again, pasting on a smile in hopes it’ll reassure her. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

Oberyn calls her over a second later, not giving her time to see his words for the lie they are. She sends him a worried look as she leaves, though, and he knows he’ll face more questions later if he doesn’t manage to be more convincing.

That part, he can pull off. He’s an actor; pretending to feel things he doesn’t is his job. But the guilt refuses to go away, refuses to stop circling around him and exposing all the doubts he thought he was so good at keeping hidden, all his fears that nothing he says or does will ever be enough to right the wrongs he’s done while trying to protect his family name.

***

 **Jorah Mormont to Exit _West Side Story_ Following Pedophilia Accusations**  
Varys for Visway.com  
News August 28th, 2019

Tywin Lannister’s already controversial _West Side Story_ revival is facing yet another scandal after several performers came forward accusing star Jorah Mormont of engaging in sexual relations with them while they were still minors. Their claims were later backed by producer/director Daenerys Targaryen, who accused the _Cats_ star of making clear advances on her while she was a teenager despite her obvious discomfort. 

The accusations sparked a widespread campaign to see Mormont removed from the production along with threats to boycott the production when the Lannisters initially refused to do so. Both director Kevan Lannister and producer Tywin Lannister declined to comment on the matter; however, insider rumours suggest that the casting was only changed due to the need for _West Side Story_ to recoup its investment in order for their company to maintain operations in its few remaining theatres. 

It has not yet been announced who will be replacing Mormont as Theodan in the production, although several insider sources suspect Jaime Lannister will be returning to his family’s company despite being expected to star in _Moulin Rouge!_ These reports are currently unconfirmed by both the Lannisters and the Martells, however.

***

When Brienne comes back from dinner, there’s a meeting going on in front of the stage.

Oberyn is standing with his back to the door, talking to a petite woman with intricately braided white hair and piercing violet eyes while a man with the same white hair stands a few paces behind her, his shoulders hunched slightly. Jaime’s lurking several rows back in the house, looking oddly nervous as he observes the conversation from a distance, and Brienne’s about to go over and ask him _why_ he’s standing tense and uncertain when she glances over at the woman and is struck by a bolt of recognition.

Like virtually everyone else on Visway, she’s been closely following the drama between the Lannister Organization and Targaryen Theatres. Daenerys—or Dany, as she prefers to be called—has become a media darling over the course of her rapid ascension, and Brienne’s seen enough of her interviews to be a little disappointed in herself for not recognizing the young woman sooner.

“It’s an awful thing,” she hears Oberyn say as she drifts over to join Jaime, still looking lost and terrified among the empty seats. “And I’m glad you were fortunate enough to escape the worst of his actions. I keep thinking about those poor young women, who are going to be scarred for the rest of their lives because of what he did to them.”

Daenerys nods, her normally-cheery face set into grim lines. “I hate that they had to endure all that. I managed to evade the worst of his actions, and it still haunts me years later.”

“What are they talking about?” Brienne asks Jaime in a low voice, startling him out of his reverie. “Down there, I mean.”

“Did you hear the news about Jorah Mormont?” he asks her after a minute passes, and she’s momentarily baffled by the response until she remembers what Obara and Margaery had been railing about at dinner before she’d left to return to the theatre. 

“I did, yeah. We were talking about it over dinner earlier. Although I don’t understand why Daenerys would come _here_ to talk about it.”

Jaime nods, something sharp glittering in his green eyes as he stares down at the people still talking before the stage. “It’s about my father, really. He cast Mormont in _West Side Story_ , and only decided to fire him after there were calls to boycott the show if he kept Mormont on. Which means this is about profit for him, as per usual. He doesn’t want to lose money on what may be his last opportunity to save the business, so he can’t afford to have a potential boycott going on. The Targaryens are here because they know the Martells hate my father just as much as they do, although they have yet to get to the point of this whole conversation so I’m not exactly sure _why_ they want to discuss this.” 

He pauses and draws in a deep breath. “I can’t imagine it’ll be good for my family, though. And I have no idea how it’s going to affect me, if I’m right about that. Or if I even have the right to be worried about being impacted by this meeting.”

Brienne wants to reassure him somehow, persuade whatever guilt Gerold Dayne had stirred up in him to fade away, but instead she glances down just in time to hear a frowning Oberyn ask, “What brings you here? You’re a busy woman, so I don’t believe for an instant it was merely the pleasure of my company.”

“I was hoping to see if you’d be interested in helping me deal with the Lannisters,” Daenerys replies primly, her gaze darting up to Jaime for a second before she looks away. “Not all of them, of course. But Tywin for certain, and most likely his brother Kevan as well. I haven’t decided about all the rest yet.” 

Jaime doesn’t look surprised when Brienne glances over at him, though his jaw is working in a way that could mean he’s angry or upset or...anything, really. He says nothing, however, and she’s too interested in the conversation happening in front of the stage to ask just yet.

Oberyn nods slowly, his arms folding across his chest. “It seems to me you’ve got the situation pretty well handled. What exactly do you need my siblings and I for?”

“I need a respected theatre-owning family on my side,” Daenerys tells him, her expression turning fierce. “I’m trying to rebuild my family’s legacy from scratch, so I don’t have enough allies in the industry who I can rely on to support my efforts. I know your family has faced more than its fair share of discrimination in the past, but it’s widely known that you hate Tywin, and no one can deny that you’re one of the longest-standing families on Visway—and you have one of the best reputations.”

“You’ve gained quite a bit of respect recently, though.”

“Not enough,” Daenerys mutters grimly, “and not from the people who count most. It took me months to convince the Baratheon brothers to take me seriously, and I’m pretty sure Robert still thinks I’m a foolish little girl trying to become a bigger player on a small stage. To them, Tywin has the advantage of being a longstanding producer, an old man who’s done his time in the industry, whereas I’m a young woman sticking her nose in places I don’t belong. I need support if I’m going to win over the other families, the Starks and the Tyrells and maybe even the Greyjoys. I need someone to back me up, no matter how much I hate the fact that I do.”

“I presume you’ve got some sort of plan?” Oberyn asks after a moment, casting his own quick look in Jaime’s direction before nodding at Daenerys. “Because I’d rather not see people who have no involvement in Tywin’s shadier activities get hurt just because they’re related to him. I know he wouldn’t extend the same courtesy to my family, but I’d really rather not end up being like him in any way, not even if it’s to help take him down.”

“You’re right,” Daenerys agrees, and Brienne sees Jaime’s shoulders slump as he breathes out a relieved sigh. “Which is why I intend to go after his business and nothing else. He can try to make it personal, but I refuse to stoop to his level, and it makes him look a lot worse if he’s resorting to below-the-belt attacks while I’m remaining cool and professional the whole time. But while buying out his smaller theatres has worked so far, it’s not going to be enough to really hit him where it hurts.”

Oberyn’s eyebrows skyrocket and he lets out a low whistle. “You’re gunning for Casterly?”

“I don’t understand,” Brienne murmurs to Jaime. “Why is that significant?”

“The original nine theatres on Visway have never changed hands unless the previous owner willingly sold it,” he replies just as quietly. “The Baratheon brothers put Storm’s End up for sale well before Daenerys showed interest in it, and pretty much all the other theatres have belonged to the same families since the beginning. If she manages to take Casterly Theatre from my father, it won’t just be the final blow to his already dying company. It’ll be a historical first on Visway. Plus my father’s obsessed with _the family legacy_ , so losing the biggest symbol of that legacy would be the equivalent of losing a limb in his eyes.”

She shakes her head, a wry smile working its way across her face. “You know, this all seemed so much simpler when I was younger and performing on stage felt like a distant dream. There were no politics involved in my childhood fantasies of being a Visway star.”

Jaime laughs dryly. “Yeah, mine neither. My father quickly taught me otherwise, though.”

“If we get Casterly, there’ll be nothing more Tywin can do to us,” Daenerys is saying, and Brienne’s gaze snaps back to where she and Oberyn continue to talk. “He’ll have no more company, no more income, and no more power in the theatre industry that he can use to try and take us down. And most of his family won’t get hurt in the process, because those that should be left out of all this have already left his company behind years ago.”

Oberyn nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I’ll have to talk to my siblings about this first, but I have a feeling they’ll agree. I do want your guarantee that you won’t make things personal, though. I’d like to keep my current leads around for a little bit longer.”

“Only one of them is a Lannister, though.” Daenerys looks baffled, her brow furrowing as she exchanges a confused glance with the man standing behind her.

“They seem to come as a matched set these days,” Oberyn explains, glancing up at Brienne and Jaime again with the slightest smile curling his lips upwards. “It’s rare to see one without the other, and I have a feeling that if Jaime leaves, Brienne’ll be gone not long after.”

Brienne, standing shocked next to Jaime, desperately wants to run down and deny Oberyn’s words—but she can’t. The fact that they’re up here together right now only serves to prove his point, and she’s hard-pressed to remember a day since the final reading where the two of them _haven’t_ spent almost all their time talking together whenever they weren’t needed in rehearsals. It’s a discomfiting realization—not a bad one, though, and not one that sends her reeling quite as much as the realization of their friendship did.

Because the thing is, she _enjoys_ spending time with Jaime. Now that he’s not caustic and angry and bitter, he’s actually funny and clever and seems to delight in making her laugh about the stupidest things. She _misses_ him on the days they’re not together for rehearsals—though it’s hard to do so for long when he’s more than willing to take advantage of having her phone number or when he seems to gravitate towards her whenever they’re both free. 

And she’s no better, since she _encourages_ him in all this. If he doesn’t seek her out first, she’ll come find him immediately, and she’s hard pressed to remember a free moment when she and Jaime _weren’t_ side by side, laughing and talking and paying no heed to anyone else around them. It’s no wonder Oberyn’s confident they’ll come and go from the show as a package deal.

“I think we might have a deal—once you talk to your siblings, of course,” Daenerys is saying down below, drawing Brienne’s attention back to the conversation. “But that’s enough business talk for now. Tell me, how are rehearsals going?”

Oberyn softens and begins to tell some story about rehearsal antics, which Brienne tunes out in favour of turning to Jaime and asking, “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he replies a little too quickly, refusing to meet her gaze. “I hate my father, remember?”

“They’re still talking about going up against your family,” she says quietly, reaching out to place a tentative hand on his arm. “You may not like a lot of your relatives, but they’re still your family, and I doubt all of them are as bad as your father is. You’re allowed to have complicated feelings about this whole situation, you know.”

Jaime laughs again, this time bitter and rueful. “Complicated is a very polite way of putting it, I think. I’m starting to wonder if any of my family members can actually be trusted at this point.”

“They can’t all be that bad?”

“You have no idea,” he mutters, staring down at his feet. “My father has never done anything that wasn’t for profit or to further his legacy, Uncle Kevan just goes along with whatever he’s told to do, my brother had to flee to Essos because he probably killed two people, and the rest of my family either follows my father like a bunch of ducklings all in a row or turns a blind eye to whatever shit he’s pulling this time. The only ones who don’t have any involvement in it—as far as I know—are my Aunt Genna and my cousin Joy. Maybe cousin Cleos too, but he’s not perceptive enough to know what’s going on with my father’s practices unless someone tells him.”

Brienne nods quietly, privately wondering just how many of his various cousins are counted in that generalization. If they all are, as he seems to presume...well, it must have been a very lonely life, working for the Lannister Organization with no other options clearly available even though he wanted nothing more than to get away from it.

Daenerys and Oberyn are still talking, but the man who accompanied her drifts away and up the stairs towards her and Jaime in a series of motions too casual to be anything but deliberate. “Hey,” he says quietly once he joins them, reaching out to shake hands with first Jaime, then Brienne. “I’m, uh, I’m Viserys Targaryen, Dany’s brother and also the standby for Sebaston.”

Brienne nods in response but says nothing, determined to let Jaime do the talking here. She’s going off old information when it comes to Viserys, but the last she heard of him he was a diva of the worst kind, making excessive demands and harassing castmates and ranting endlessly at any minor inconvenience. But his sister had announced on his behalf that he’d be stepping away from acting for a while three or four years ago, and he hasn’t been heard from since—until now. 

“Viserys,” Jaime says after a moment, his jaw set again in the same manner as before, and Brienne realizes with a jolt that he’s braced for an attack, waiting for the awful words he expects are going to be spat in his direction, as she’d seen happen with Gerold Dayne a couple days ago. “How have you been? No one’s heard from you in quite some time.”

Viserys inclines his head rather than taking offence, looking far calmer than the stories she’s heard have described him to be. “Well, I needed to take some time away. I’m sure you heard about some of the things I’d been doing, and how horribly I’d been treating the people around me for almost my entire career. Turns out I learned a lot from my father, and that needed to change.” 

Jaime nods, his hand slowly unclenching from the fist he’d drawn it into. He’s unnaturally still, looking as if nothing short of the earth crumbling around him could convince him to move. Brienne wonders, briefly, if he’s anticipating a blow and is determined not to flinch away from it. “Well, your father wasn’t a very good person to learn from.”

“He definitely wasn’t,” Viserys agrees, trying for a smile despite the uncertainty obvious in every inch of his face. 

They fall silent for long enough to be uncomfortable, and Brienne finally opens her mouth when it becomes clear neither of the men intend to say anything. “I’m surprised we haven’t seen you around at all, if you’re Jaime’s standby.” Her own standby, Jeyne Westerling, has been lingering around the theatre for the duration of rehearsals, making Viserys’s absence all the more significant.

“Sorry I haven’t been around for rehearsals very much,” Viserys offers with a sad smile. “But given Jaime’s history with the Targaryens...well, Doran thought you’d be better off having some time without me lurking in the background, waiting to potentially take your place.”

“Fair enough,” Jaime says quietly, not quite meeting Viserys’s gaze as he speaks. “I can’t say I blame him.”

“Me neither. I’ve had some time now to realize exactly how terrible my father was, and I can hardly begin to imagine the impact his actions must have had on you. Especially since you were so young at the time.”

Jaime stiffens even more, and Brienne slowly offers her hand to him, refusing to react when he carefully takes it in his and grips it tight enough to hurt a little. “I wasn’t that young,” he says after a long moment, his back straightening and his head going up as if that’ll be enough to block out the painful memories of the past.

“Young enough,” she tells him quietly, the first time she’s spoken since Viserys came over. Jaime had only been seventeen when Aerys Targaryen had hired him on his first Visway role, and he’d still been seventeen when he’d come forward to the press with the allegations against Aerys. When Brienne was seventeen, she was still trying to get the lead in her school’s performances, still filled with dreams of Visway stardom that hadn’t yet been crushed by the harsh reality of theatre’s fickle nature. She certainly wouldn’t have been ready to deal with an extremely corrupt producer, and she doubts Jaime was ready for that, either.

Viserys nods gratefully at her but says nothing else while Jaime takes a deep breath in, his hand tightening around Brienne’s. His exhale is shaky enough to worry her, but he manages a convincing enough smile that Viserys bids them farewell shortly after and heads back down to rejoin his sister, still talking to Oberyn in front of the stage.

Jaime doesn’t move once Viserys is gone, looking like he’d be content to spend eternity frozen in place here among the empty seats of Sunspear Theatre, and it’s not until Brienne tugs gently at his hand that he follows her blindly, his eyes fixed on his feet as she leads him over to what’s been marked as his dressing room.

“Sit down,” she tells him, keeping her voice soft and low as he sinks into a chair. “If you need to talk about anything, I’m here and willing to listen. You don’t have to, but...you’re not alone, Jaime.”

He breathes deeply and shakily for a minute, two minutes, in and out, his gaze fixed on the wall. Eventually, he closes his eyes, then opens them and meets her gaze, something strangely fragile lurking behind his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, moving his stump to rest on top of their still-linked hands. “I...it’s...the memories aren’t…”

“Very pleasant?” she offers, and he nods, attempting to smile, though it falls flat. “I can imagine. The news reports from the trial were bad enough that my father forbade me from watching them, and you had to witness all that in person.”

He doesn’t respond for a long moment, measuring his breaths carefully again as he lowers his gaze to their hands. “I don’t...I refused to work with either Viserys or Rhaegar for a long time after _King Baelor_. Viserys...well, I’m sure you’ve heard enough stories of how much he learned from his father, and Rhaegar just sat by and let so much of it happen even though he might have been the only one capable of making his father stop hurting people. I’m glad to hear Viserys got help, and that he found a new path for himself, but...seeing him again brings up a lot of memories I’ve been trying to avoid.”

She nods and remains quiet, determined to let Jaime speak as much or as little as he likes. She’d been too young to really know the details of Aerys’s actions and Jaime’s subsequent statement against him, and though she’s learned more about it in the years since, it’s still not the same as hearing it from Jaime himself, from seeing in person how much damage Aerys Targaryen had done to him. 

“I really didn’t think any of that was gonna happen,” he whispers after a long moment, his grip on her hand tightening. “Aerys seemed so kind and welcoming when he hired me, kept telling me how he was gonna make me into a star, the brightest one to ever shine on Visway. I’d heard the rumours, of course, but everyone who’d worked with him only talked about how lovely he was, how he encouraged them and pushed them to do better even when they didn’t believe they could. That was before I realized how carefully he crafted that image, of course.”

Ten years after everything came out, some journalist had done a special on _Aerys Targaryen and the Secrets He Hid For So Long_. The journalist had described Jaime’s revelations as “knocking down a single card and sending the whole house tumbling to the ground,” pulling out one of the pieces Aerys had painted so beautifully to create the perfect picture and unintentionally opening up the cracks hidden beneath it all.

“I put my whole life plan on hold to do that show, too,” he continues, his voice trembling until she wraps her other hand around his stump. “I had a plan. I was gonna attend the conservatory, learn the tools of the trade, do a few years onstage, and then start helping my father out with the company when he told me to. But you didn’t refuse Aerys Targaryen back then, not if you valued your career, and not even my father was willing to say something when he snapped me up a week out of high school and cast me as Edmure.”

 _A week out of high school_. He’d been so _young_ back then, and it’s easy to picture him as he used to be: a young boy still growing into his gangly limbs, hair gold and face unlined and green eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of performing before reality had stomped it out of him. No one that young should have to bear the weight of the world on their shoulders, no matter what the novels she’d loved as a child might claim.

“Do you regret it?” she asks him when he falls silent and remains that way. “Revealing the truth about Aerys.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he replies immediately, his grip on her hand tightening. “It protected Rhaella and his children, it protected all those actors and stagehands from any further harm, and it meant that bastard was finally taken somewhere he couldn’t hurt anyone else. But you and Viserys were right, earlier. I was still a child when all that went down, and I had no idea what I was doing. But no one else would listen to me or help me, and _someone_ had to say something before he did something terrible like burn the theatre down with all of us and an audience inside it.

“I don’t know if he ever would have done it.” He pauses and lets out a bitter laugh. “But he certainly loved to talk about doing it someday. I didn’t tell that part to the press, though. I don’t know if they’d have accepted it.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp at that, but it’s a detail she’s never heard in all the years of overhearing whispers about Aerys Targaryen and Jaime Lannister and the abrupt fall of the man who’d been the greatest producer on Visway at the time.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, rising to wrap her arms around his shoulders, and he buries his face against her stomach. “You shouldn’t have had to endure that. No one should have had to deal with what Aerys did to any of the people he hurt.”

He takes another shaky breath in, then lets out a choked sob and begins to weep against her, the tears she wonders if he ever had a chance to spill for the young boy who had his childhood innocence ripped away from him soaking into her shirt. She imagine he’s weeping for Rhaella Targaryen and her children, abused and hurt and shattered, for every unfortunate soul Aerys turned his wrath on, for the young women scarred permanently by Jorah Mormont’s actions, and for every person ever harmed by the cruelties of another who hurt others to make themselves feel bigger than they are. 

And as he cries, she presses her face to his head and lets her own tears fall, crying for the child she’d once been, before the world told her she wasn’t worthy of her dreams, for Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen, still grappling with the effects of who their father was and what he did to them, and for Jaime, her costar and _friend_ , who’s spent his entire life relying on himself and never thinking he had anyone he could turn to when in need of shelter from the storm.

***

 **Aerys Targaryen an ‘Abusive Monster’, Claims Jaime Lannister**  
Dick Bean for Visway.com  
News December 19th, 1999

Young rising star Jaime Lannister, currently making his Visway debut at Dragonstone Theatre in _King Baelor_ , has come forward with claims that renowned producer/director Aerys Targaryen is not nearly as kind and warm-hearted as the veneer he projects to the public. Lannister claims Targaryen abuses and belittles his employees, his children, and his wife of twelve years, Rhaella, and that all of this has been going on for ‘ages, perhaps from the very beginning of his career.’

“He’s an abusive monster,” Lannister said in a statement made to Visway.com earlier this week. “He takes advantage of the vulnerable among his cast and picks them apart until they feel small and petty and unable to defend themselves, and then he hurts them in whatever way he decides they deserve. He burns people a lot of the time. He seems to like fire.”

When asked, Lannister denied that he, personally, had suffered at Targaryen’s hands, something fairly believable considering the power and influence his father, producer Tywin Lannister, also has on Visway. He did state that he had witnessed multiple altercations between Targaryen and his female castmates, as well as between Targaryen and his family members who came by to see the show. While none of Lannister’s castmates could be reached at this time, Rhaella Targaryen reluctantly backed Lannister’s statement, all the while repeatedly uttering her fear that her husband might hurt her should he learn what she’d done.

Targaryen has been arrested on charges of assault and domestic violence, although it is unlikely he will face trial anytime soon. In the meantime, his wife and children have been placed in a safe location beyond his influence, and _King Baelor_ will be closing effective immediately, along with all other performances at Targaryen-owned theatres. It is not clear whether they will be resuming operations anytime soon, or if they will be reopening at all.

Lannister is expected to attend the King’s Landing Conservatory in the fall to study acting, a plan originally derailed by his being cast in _King Baelor_. It is unlikely that any future Visway career will be impacted by his actions, although there has been considerable backlash from several of Targaryen’s staunch supporters. Tywin Lannister recently announced that his son would not be giving any further press statements until everything has died down, and has refused to comment on the matter beyond this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things you probably didn't expect from this story: a Viserys Targaryen redemption arc. I definitely didn't expect it until I wrote it.
> 
> the situation with Jorah Mormont and _West Side Story_ is, as I mentioned before, drawn from real life (it's also drawn in part from his canon actions, like continually trying to make moves on Dany, an actual teenager, so transplanting the real life awfulness onto him didn't feel like much of a stretch to me at all). the 2020 revival of _West Side Story_ cast Amar Ramasar in the role of Bernardo, a dancer who was [fired from the New York City Ballet](https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2020/03/ivo-van-hoves-west-side-story-steeped-stereotypes/607210/) after being accused of sharing sexually explicit photos of female dancers. sadly, in real life Ramasar remained part of the cast, and didn't face many consequences for his actions considering he'd be eventually reinstated in the Ballet.
> 
> (actually, the article I linked is really fascinating in how it analyzes the new revival, which tries to modernize _West Side Story_ and remove the racism that's been there from the beginning. according to this article, trying to update _West Side Story_ for the modern era is missing the point, because it's never actually been about the Latinx experience, but rather the queer Jewish experience all of its creators went through. if you're interested in the topic, definitely give it a read)
> 
> if you're curious about what the moulin rouge set looks like, it's [here](https://potatothecat.tumblr.com/post/187225222712/moulin-rouge-set-at-the-al-hirschfeld-theatre-set). apparently there's a lot of moving parts to it (at least according to one cast interview and the bootleg I watched).
> 
> I haven't really been commenting on the songs I'm quoting at the beginning of each chapter but I have to bring up that Dust and Ashes is one of the most Jaime songs I've ever heard. I actually changed the song for this chapter at one point so I could work dust and ashes in because it's such a jaime song. 
> 
> there is a very high probability that you're gonna be waiting two weeks for the next chapter, sadly. the next couple chapters _are_ written, they just need a LOT of work, and idk how much time I'm going to have to get them into posting condition. if things go well this week, then I'll post next week same as usual, but that'd be a very fortunate turn of events that both you and I are probably going to be shocked by should it happen. 
> 
> next time: the outrage continues, Tywin Lannister makes a casting decision, and jaime and brienne go out for dinner.


	8. 1 Month to Opening/The Beat of Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arianne’s about to say _no, not at all, it’s pretty easy actually_ , but then she sees how Brienne’s bending her head toward Jaime, how he’s smiling up at her with unbearable fondness in his expression, and blinks slowly before looking back over at Asha. “No, it’s not just you. Either they’re really committed to being method, or they've got something else going on that none of us know about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back! the regularly scheduled crisis over this fic/the general state of the world has passed, and I have returned with a chapter long enough to officially make this the longest fic I've ever posted. eight chapters in.
> 
> anyways. that's a thing.
> 
> warnings for this chapter: carrying on from last time, there are more vague references to sexual assault. still not in any detail, but I would advise you to tread carefully anyways. also, the second half of the chapter involves discussion of workplace harassment and bullying, which is in a little more detail. also I cried while writing it because it made me feel Emotions.
> 
> once again, thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this chapter! also for being very enthusiastic about this fic in general because I probably would've given up a while ago if it weren't for her!
> 
> you can also come find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) if you're interested in seeing me ramble _more_ about musical theatre and jb. thank you for reading, and enjoy!

_Love starts on the downbeat  
Love starts when the music starts  
Love starts when the tune is sweet  
And you lift your feet  
To the beat of your heart…  
-The Beat of Your Heart, The Band’s Visit_

**Visway Stars Speak Out On _West Side Story_ Controversy**  
Robert Arryn for Visway.com  
News September 12th, 2019

Following the multiple accusations against _West Side Story_ actor Jorah Mormont and his subsequent firing from the production, many Visway performers have released statements condemning Mormont’s actions and decrying producer Tywin Lannister’s reluctance to fire him. Director and producer Daenerys Targaryen has released an extended statement to supplement her initial accusations against both Mormont and Lannister. One of the only women to speak against Mormont who has been identified, Targaryen stated that while she, personally, had not been harmed physically by his actions, “what he tried to do very much impacted my trust in the older actors I encountered, and my heart goes out to all those he wronged in the past. I sincerely hope these women are able to move on and find a place of healing and safety despite what he did to them.”

Actor Arthur Dayne also spoke against Mormont, saying, “I was shocked and horrified to learn of the accusations against Jorah Mormont, and I sincerely hope he is appropriately punished for his crimes against the women he hurt. I am deeply ashamed of having worked with him in the past on _Into The Woods_ and I will be making a donation to the Flea Bottom Women’s Shelter in solidarity with these women and any other who have been victims of sexual assault. I strongly encourage Tywin Lannister to do the same, seeing as he took an alarmingly long time to fire Mormont after the accusations were made public.”

Producer Doran Martell also released a statement, saying, “My family does not condone the actions of Mr. Jorah Mormont and will refuse to work with or employ anyone who supports him after these revelations. We also ask that Mr. Tywin Lannister offer an apology to the women wronged by the man he protected for so many years, as anything else would imply his firing of Mr. Mormont was not, in fact, sincerely meant.”

In a surprising move, Mormont’s former _West Side Story_ costar Cersei Baratheon also publicly condemned his actions, being the only person involved with the Lannister Organization and its associated shows to do so. “It appalls me that Jorah Mormont was allowed to carry on hurting people for as long as he did,” she said, “and I am deeply hurt by the knowledge that I agreed to work with him for a time, even without knowing what he had done. I ask my colleagues at the Lannister Organization to take action in the future in order to prevent someone like this from finding employment with them ever again, and I am bitterly disappointed that Mr. Mormont might have stayed in _West Side Story_ were it not for the calls to boycott the show.”

It has still not been revealed who will be replacing Mormont in _West Side Story_ , although prevailing rumours from the Lannister Organization suggest veteran actor Jaime Lannister, currently expected to star in _Moulin Rouge!_ , will be taking on the role. Other suggestions include Ronnet Connington, Renly Baratheon, and Meryn Trant, although Baratheon has vehemently denied the rumours of his casting. The other men named have yet to provide statements on the matter.

***

Arianne is sitting in front of the stage, watching Oberyn guide her castmates through the end of Elephant Love Medley, when Asha drops into the seat next to her and slings her arm over her shoulders with a grin.

“Enjoying the show?” Asha asks her, nodding towards the stage and where Jaime and Brienne are quietly talking off to the side while Oberyn works with the ensemble. “I’ve certainly found it interesting. I have to ask, is it just me, or are you also having a hard time figuring out when our leads are acting and when they’re just, I dunno, hanging out and being friendly?”

Arianne’s about to say _no, not at all, it’s pretty easy actually_ , but then she sees how Brienne’s bending her head toward Jaime, how he’s smiling up at her with unbearable fondness in his expression, and blinks slowly before looking back over at Asha. “No, it’s not just you. Either they’re really committed to being method, or they've got something else going on that none of us know about.”

“Margaery thinks that the latter’s the case here.”

“Yeah, well, Margaery seems to think everything’s a secret spectacle waiting for her to discover it these days. And that tends to backfire on her in the worst of ways when she takes things too far and people find out. Has anyone told her how terrible an idea her bet plan is, or am I gonna have to do that myself?”

“Oh, it’s not a _bet_ ,” Asha snips, imitating Margaery’s affronted expression. “It’s _innocent speculation_ , no more. Stop making it sound so _crass_.”

“That’s not any better. And I don’t think anyone who might get hurt by this is gonna be focusing too much on the little details like that.”

“In answer to your original question, Oberyn hinted at it, when she approached him,” Asha says with a shrug. “But most people are too tired from rehearsals to think very hard about the potential repercussions. Either that or they got too excited about our leads actually liking each other once they started talking and now realize this is a horrible plan but don’t want to back out for fear of being called cowards.”

“Is this about you or is it about Addam?”

Asha leans back and places a hand over her heart dramatically. “ _Excuse_ me, Arianne? How could you betray me like this? I would _never_ sign onto a foolish plan and then end up having doubts about it later but refuse to back down because my ego would be bruised otherwise.”

“No, but seriously,” Arianne says with a laugh. “I need to know I’m not the only person who regrets enabling her.”

“Oh, you’re definitely not alone in regretting that,” Asha mutters, shaking her head. “It seemed like a really good idea at the time, but now that I think about it…”

“There’s so many ways this could go badly. At this point, I’m just praying neither of them find out about it.”

“Let’s hope the Hunt—Runt—whatever guy from the ensemble doesn’t find out either. He keeps insisting that we’re all imagining things and that Brienne’s going to get together with _him_.”

“Did you hear what Jaime called him the other day?” Arianne asks, stifling giggles in the palm of her hand. “He was ranting about Hunt because he’s _definitely_ not annoyed that the guy keeps upsetting Brienne when trying to hit on her. You know, because Jaime doesn’t worry about Brienne’s well-being at _all_. ”

Asha raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across her face. “No, I didn’t. Tell me?”

“He described him as having—and this is a direct quote— _about as much personality as untoasted white bread_ ,” Arianne explains, and Asha snorts loudly before they both burst into a fit of giggles. “Which is...well, he’s not wrong, but I didn’t expect him to be so _brutal_ about it.”

“Sounds like someone’s a bit jealous,” Asha offers with a snicker, before sobering. “Sorry to make things serious all of a sudden, but I heard a rumour they’re planning to call Jaime back for _West Side Story_ now that Mormont’s out? I’m hesitant to believe it, though.”

“Oh, I doubt we’ll be losing Jaime anytime soon. And despite my initial thought, I actually don’t think it’s because of Brienne.”

“More like my situation, perhaps? His family _has_ somehow managed to be even worse than mine in a lot of respects.”

Arianne nods, though treacherous family dynamics aren’t something she could hope to understand. Her family’s had their fair share of conflicts and tension in the past, but none of that compares to the constant backstabbing going on among most of the Greyjoys, or the iron fist with which Tywin rules his family. “I’d assume so. He hasn’t said anything to _me_ , but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Brienne knows what’s going on with that whole situation.”

“They do seem to have their heads together almost constantly. Like right now.”

Arianne follows Asha’s gaze across the theatre to see Brienne lowering her head slightly to better hear what Jaime’s saying. Oberyn’s clapping his hands, keeping the beat as the ensemble works through the choreography for the end of the number, but the two leads seem oblivious to anything other than their conversation.

“I swear Jaime’s forgotten all about me,” Addam grumbles, appearing out of nowhere to take a seat in the row behind them and lean forward. “He’s always with Brienne these days, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to get a word in edgewise with those two always together. I have an obligation as his friend to bother him about it.”

Asha laughs, her grey eyes sparkling as the lights from the stage hit them. “And at least you’re not trying to meddle in his affairs and make him miserable.”

“Unlike some other people we could name,” Arianne mumbles, glancing over to where Margaery’s sitting a few rows back, scrolling through her phone. “I love her dearly, but she does _not_ know when to draw the line.”

Addam nods, his expression turning somber. “I told her to pull me out of her little ‘speculation’ pool yesterday. It was a mistake to agree to it in the first place, and there’s no way Jaime’s gonna react well when it inevitably gets revealed. I can’t speak for Brienne, but…”

“Even under the best of circumstances, it could easily be seen as creepy,” Arianne agrees with a shake of her head. “And these are definitely not the best of circumstances.”

They fall silent for a moment, observing the action onstage as Oberyn calls Jaime and Brienne over and sends them to the front of the stage so they can run the last minute or so of the number. The ensemble retreats to the wings in preparation, and the orchestra is beginning to play when Addam speaks again.

“Did you hear Dany Targaryen was here the other week?” he asks in a low murmur. “I’m not sure why, but I ran into Viserys the other day when he finally came in to rehearse and he mentioned having been by with his sister not that long ago.”

“Dad mentioned a potential meeting with her,” Arianne offers, thinking back on her recent conversations with her father. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear she came by to discuss the whole Tywin Lannister thing, considering it’s common knowledge we hate him.”

She knows the real story about Dany’s plea for assistance, but her dad’s asked her to keep from sharing too much of it with her castmates, and she can’t blame him for it. Agreeing to help take down Tywin is dangerous, even with his continued fall from grace, and she wouldn’t blame anyone who wanted to run screaming from a situation like that. Besides, nothing’s been settled since Dany’s visit—or at least not as far as Arianne’s aware.

She didn’t intend to pay so much attention to it, but something's eased in Jaime since that week, like he'd been carrying a great weight on his shoulders and finally been freed from part of it. He's been looking at Brienne, too—more than he normally does, even—with something Arianne's tempted to call _gratitude_ shimmering in his eyes, and she wonders what exactly happened the night Dany Targaryen came by to visit, to bring this change on. She won’t ask, though. It’s none of her business, no matter how curious she is.

“What’s to discuss, though?” Asha asks with a frown. “She’s already buying out his theatres faster than he’s putting them on sale.”

Arianne shrugs, internally wincing at the lies she’s about to offer them. “I wish I knew. My dad’s not the greatest at bringing me into those conversations, although he’s gotten better since I called him on it a few years back. But it might’ve had something to do with all the revelations about Jorah Mormont.”

Both Addam and Asha make the same disgusted expression, and Arianne finds herself biting down on a laugh at the sight. “Ugh, _that_ ,” Addam mutters, shaking his head. “It’s absolutely awful what happened, and even worse that he might not’ve faced consequences if Tywin’s precious _profit_ hadn’t been threatened. Seven forbid he give a shit about his own children or a dozen innocent women whose abuser he’s protecting, but if you dare threaten him financially…”

Asha raises an eyebrow, her eyes going wide. “And I thought my dad was awful. At least he cared enough to hide the worst of my uncles from me, and didn’t try to stop me when I left the company.”

“I’ve known Jaime a _long_ time,” Addam says grimly. “I won’t tell you details—it’s his story to share, not mine—but I’ve seen his father pull some _shit_ in the past that’ll make you want to murder Tywin Lannister—provided he hasn’t made you want to do that already.”

Arianne laughs, a bitter note creeping into her voice. She’s hated Tywin since he tried to ruin her Aunt Elia, and nothing she’s heard or seen of him since has swayed her even the slightest bit towards a more positive opinion. “I’m amazed Jaime stayed as long as he did. It sounds like an awful situation to grow up in. I’d be jumping at the first chance to get out of a home like that.”

“He probably didn’t think there were a lot of other options,” Asha says, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “It wasn’t easy for Theon and I to walk away from our family, especially since we’d been told for so many years that no one else would want to hire a Greyjoy. Tywin seems the sort to say that kind of thing to his children in order to keep them close—not that it worked out very well, but still.”

“You’d understand better than most,” Addam agrees, while Arianne remains silent, watching them both with a furrow between her brows. She’s rarely more grateful for her family than when hearing about things like this, the cruelties and abuse that can go on between people who by all rights should love each other as much as her family does. It’s sometimes hard to remember when they’re arguing, or when her brothers are being particularly annoying, but the love she has for her family is a gift, and this is a reminder to treasure it. Not everyone is so lucky.

“Do you think Tywin knew about Mormont before everything came out?” she asks when no one else speaks for another long moment. Onstage, Oberyn’s called the music to a halt while he offers notes to Brienne and the ensemble on a particular section of the dance, and the theatre is nearly silent except for his voice and the quiet murmur of other conversations in the background.

“That’d be a whole new level of fuckery, even for Tywin Lannister,” Asha mutters with a shake of her head, but her eyes are wide and she darts a quick look at Jaime, standing to the side with his hand tucked into his pocket. “Surely he has enough decency to recognize how awful protecting someone like _that_ would be.”

“People like Mormont tend not to face consequences nearly as often as they should, though,” Arianne points out, even as she wishes Asha was correct. She may hate Tywin more than she could ever hope to express, but a part of her still wants to believe there’s a good person hidden behind his cruelties. A naive part, to be sure, but it’s a hope she holds onto all the same. “It’s probably not that far-fetched a theory.”

Addam nods, but says nothing, leaving Arianne to pick up the thread of the conversation again. “We know all too well that Tywin’s very much the sort to hide things that don’t suit his agenda, and he’s not exactly going around condemning Mormont’s actions along with everyone else. It’s all too easy to imagine that he knew and kept it hidden because he thought Mormont would be a big draw.”

“Guess he just didn’t give a shit about everyone Mormont hurt,” Asha mutters, darkness creeping across her face. “How many people did that monster harm? And Tywin was just gonna let him keep performing, keep giving him a platform he could use to hurt _more_ people?”

“Never make the mistake of assuming Tywin Lannister cares about other people,” Addam says grimly, his eyes shifting to where Jaime’s practising the dip at the end of the number with Brienne. “You’ll always be disappointed.”

They fall silent again, and Arianne lowers her head to stare at the shiny metal plate indicating seat number by her elbow. Something is coming with the Lannister family, and she wouldn’t be surprised to learn they’ll be dragged into it as well. 

She’d rather not spend the rest of her life hearing about Tywin Lannister and his latest cruel action or dark secret, would prefer if he simply faded into obscurity alongside the spectre of Aerys Targaryen. But the scars he inflicted will always linger, on Aunt Elia and Gerold Dayne, on the women harmed by Jorah Mormont and his own son, now laughing as Brienne pretends to drop him, a wide grin splitting her face in two. 

_Whatever Dany is planning had better work,_ Arianne thinks, raising her eyes to silently watch her uncle joke with the cast while Ellaria shakes her head from her position near the foot of the stage, not even bothering to hide her fond smile. She doesn’t want to see any of these people she cares about harmed by the looming menace of the man who owns Casterly Theatre, even when his power is fading.

If he wins, after everything he’s done, it will be the most painful thing she’s seen since the day she learned what he’d tried to do to Elia, and she has no idea how she’ll continue to work in this industry should the cruelest man since Aerys Targaryen be permitted to linger here long past the time he should have been driven away.

***

 **Ronnet Connington to Replace Jorah Mormont in _West Side Story_**  
Robert Arryn for visway.com  
News September 15th, 2019

Following the removal of veteran actor Jorah Mormont from the upcoming _West Side Story_ revival at Casterly Theatre after several young performers accused him of pedophilia and sexual assault, it has been announced that Ronnet Connington, recently fired from his role in _Moulin Rouge!_ at Sunspear Theatre, will be replacing Mormont in the role of Theodan when the show opens. The announcement has ended the calls to boycott the production, but many fans are still unhappy with the decision, particularly since Connington is not renowned for his stellar past behaviour.

Mormont, who has entered police custody, was not able to comment on his replacement, and producer and director Daenerys Targaryn, one of the strongest proponents for Mormont’s removal from the production and subsequent arrest, has expressed her own distaste for the change in casting. “I’m grateful to see Tywin Lannister taking action and ejecting a potentially dangerous figure from his cast,” she said in a press statement, “but I wish he had taken the opportunity to cast someone new and well suited for the role instead of replacing a pedophile with someone known to belittle his castmates and who was recently fired from another show for reasons I’m sure we can all figure out easily.”

Neither Tywin nor Kevan Lannister have responded to Targaryen’s comments, instead choosing to express their delight at welcoming Connington to the cast after his firing from _Moulin Rouge!_ Connington himself remained oddly silent on the matter, particularly when considering his multiple attacks on the Martell family following his removal from _Moulin Rouge!_

 _West Side Story_ is expected to begin previews at Casterly Theatre on December 19th. It is not yet clear whether the change in casting will be delaying the show’s opening or not.

***

Brienne’s the last actor to leave the theatre after they’re dismissed for dinner, which means she’s hurrying through empty halls in order to reach her dressing room and grab her bag before heading out into the evening. Oberyn had asked her to stay for a little while after they’d broken for dinner to discuss a change he wanted her to make during her opening monologue, and by the time they’d finished, the rest of the cast had dispersed far and wide.

She won’t be needed for the rest of the evening since Oberyn told them he wants to focus on the ensemble tonight, and is considering her next move as she heads downstairs towards the stage door. Most of her dinners have been spent with the other women in the cast, but she’d told them not to wait for her already, and she doesn’t especially relish enduring Margaery’s attempts to drag them all into sharing gossip for yet another evening. It’s not that she doesn’t _like_ Margaery—quite the opposite, actually—but she can be...a lot, sometimes, and rehearsals are taxing enough as it is.

To her surprise, Jaime’s lingering just outside the theatre, frowning down at his phone as he sits on the sidewalk next to the door. He doesn’t glance up when she walks over until she clears her throat above his head.

“Oh! Hey! Sorry!” he says hastily, shooting to his feet and shoving his phone into a pocket. “You done with Oberyn, then?”

She nods, noting the grim light in his eyes that wasn’t there when he was joking around with Addam and Obara at the end of rehearsal, and wonders what exactly he’d been reading before her arrival. “Yeah, he had a note he wanted me to add into my performance, and it ended up taking longer to work out than we thought. What’re you still doing here? I thought you would’ve gone to dinner by now.”

He looks down at his feet, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. “I figured I’d wait for you. I don’t exactly have other plans for the evening, and unless you were planning to hunt down some of our other castmates I doubt you have any either.”

She frowns slightly, and Jaime’s eyes go wide before he begins to shake his head rapidly. “Gods,” he mutters, smacking himself in the face with his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you’re a last resort or anything like that. It’s just...I wanted to hang out with you. Like...like friends do, I guess.”

 _Friends_. Brienne doesn’t respond for a long moment, although she can feel Jaime’s worried gaze roving over her face as she thinks the word over. She knows Jaime’s her friend, has called him such before, but the word’s begun to eat at her lately, lingering in a corner of her mind and refusing to move no matter how she shoves at it. There’s no reason why that description of their relationship should bother her so much—it’s the truth, after all—but she can’t shake the feeling of wrongness every time she hears or uses it, just as she can’t escape the odd swooping sensation in her stomach that’s started occurring every time he smiles at her, or lets his eyes linger on her own for a little too long, or settles his hand against her back while Oberyn gives them notes. She can’t explain either feeling, but they’re both apparently here to stay, and she has yet to figure out how that makes her feel.

Both feelings—her unease over their _friendship_ and the fluttering deep within her gut—have begun arising a lot more since he’d whispered about Aerys Targaryen in a broken voice, his face pressed against her shoulder as she held him close. Perhaps it’s because of the trust he’d placed in her, or because she hasn’t been able to shake the memory of the weight of him in her arms since. She’s determined to not waste all her time trying to figure out why, or what brought them on, but, much like Jaime, they seem to be determined to become a regular part of her life now.

“Well, that doesn’t sound too terrible,” she tells him when he begins to shuffle his feet against the ground, too antsy to silently wait for her answer any longer. “What did you have in mind? Dinner?”

“Dinner sounds great,” he agrees, perking up immediately. “I actually had a new place in mind, if you’re interested in trying that out, but I’m game for anywhere you want to go.”

“Somewhere new sounds good.”

Jaime grins and bounces a little before gesturing for her to follow him as he begins walking down the road towards the base of Visenya’s Hill. “Great! I promise you’ll like it. According to Elia, they have a really good selection of traditional food from across Westeros.”

He keeps chattering away as they continue moving, but the grimness she’d noticed in his gaze earlier hasn’t faded, and his hand keeps moving to the pocket where his phone is like it’s burning a hole in his jacket. The tension in his shoulders could be explained away by stiff muscles and exhaustion, but the moments when his cheerful facade drops and the worry creeps in are too obvious for her to leave it alone.

“Is everything alright?” she asks abruptly, cutting him off midway through a story about something Gendry had done in rehearsals earlier. “You seem a little...upset by something.”

He pauses, swallowing thickly, and doesn’t quite meet her gaze when he says, “They’re replacing Mormont with Ronnet Connington. In _West Side Story_ , that is.”

It’s not the whole truth, she can _tell_ he’s hiding something else even if she can’t explain how she knows, but pushing him will get her nowhere, and this pronouncement is worrying enough already. “Really? Aren’t they worried about how that’s gonna look, casting someone who just got fired from the role he was supposed to be in? Shouldn’t your father be wondering why Doran fired Connington?”

“My father’s never given a shit about that sort of thing,” Jaime says, laughing bitterly as they come to a halt outside a small restaurant with the words _A Crack In The Wall_ written in a flowing script on the window. “Connington’s available, and willing to take the role, and that’s all he needs to know. Besides, he’s always hated the Martells, and this is a perfect opportunity for him to frame the casting as pulling an unjustly fired actor back up to his rightful place in the industry or some bullshit like that. Even though pretty much everyone can figure out what a lie that is, and as if he’s ever cared about unjust firing before.”

Jaime shares little of his father with the rest of the cast, despite the growing intrigue surrounding whatever Daenerys Targaryen plans to do next in her feud with the Lannister Organization. Brienne only has a few pieces with which to create a picture of the man Tywin Lannister is to his son, but it’s enough to show her something she doesn’t care to think about, and enough to make it clear _why_ Jaime’s so reluctant to talk about his family.

Her own father, for all his faults, has always tried his best. He’s not a perfect man or a perfect parent by a long shot, and there are some scars in their history together that she can’t forget and will never forgive, but she’s always known he cares for her, and he’s been working on making up for past hurts in recent years, trying to be around more despite the duties that come with theatre ownership often pulling him away. From what little she’s managed to glean, Jaime has only known the hurt from his father, and none of the trying.

“People don’t know why Connington was fired, do they?” she asks slowly as he pulls the door open and ushers her inside ahead of him. If she’s recalling correctly, Oberyn refused to give the actual reason in his statement, but she’d heard Ron’s made several statements implying he didn’t deserve what happened to him, and she’s been trying to avoid the topic for fear of how it’ll make her feel to see him lying so blatantly in public.

“No, they don’t,” Jaime replies, nodding at a waiter as they’re ushered to a table by the window. “Not many people believe the bullshit he’s spouting either, but luckily your name’s generally been kept out of it except in the vaguest of references. He’s mostly trying to get back at the Martells, not you, in case you were worried about that.” 

She nods slowly, and the conversation stalls while the waiter hands them menus and rattles off the daily specials before disappearing into the warmth and chatter that fills the restaurant. It’s a nice place, nicer than she’d expected, with dark-painted walls and dim globular lights that hang over each table, colouring everything with a gentle glow part of her wants to describe as almost _romantic._ Their table is made of neatly polished wood, smooth and elegant, and the menus are filled with stylized scripts and dishes she doesn’t recognize. It’s so much fancier than anything by her apartment just a few blocks away, and for a moment that old pang returns, the murmur of _I don’t belong here_ that she’d sometimes felt near the end of her time in _Murder Ballad_ , when everyone else was moving on to other roles and she kept getting rejected again and again and again.

Across the table, Jaime meets her gaze and smiles, his earlier unease fading away as he does, and the worm of doubt in her chest is crushed beneath the flare of warmth that bursts from her heart and spreads throughout the rest of her body. She smiles back, a little shyly, before her eyes dart back down to study the menu, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. 

“It’s really nice in here,” she says after a moment, glancing at the window next to them just in time to watch a cab slowly roll down the street. “I didn’t expect it to be quite so…”

“Fancy?” Jaime offers, and she laughs a little at the sheepish expression he’s wearing—it’s the second time she’s seen him make that face in less than thirty minutes, and Jaime’s very much _not_ a person she’d normally describe as _sheepish_. “Yeah, sorry about that. But Elia did say it was really good when she came with her kids, so I thought it was going to be a totally different atmosphere than, well, than this.” He waves his hand in a loose gesture that encompasses the room at large before shrugging and picking up the menu again. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” she says quickly, because he has that look in his eyes again, the one he usually gets when he thinks he’s messed up but doesn’t quite know how to fix things. “It reminds me of how my dad used to take me out to dinner at fancy restaurants when he was trying to repair the mess he’d made of our relationship, actually. We’d go to some nice place and just talk for a long time, longer than we did for probably most of my childhood years added together.”

Jaime nods, lowering his menu and cupping his chin in his hand. “That sounds nice, actually. Did it help?”

“It definitely did. Our relationship isn’t always _great_ , and I won’t pretend I’ve totally forgiven him for how it fell apart, but it’s a lot better than it was before, and we understand each other more than we used to. Makes it a lot easier to solve the issues that do come up these days.”

“I wonder if that could help fix _my_ relationship with my father,” he mutters, his half-mocking expression enough to tell her how little he believes that. “Not that a few dinners will be enough to solve all our problems, of course.”

She wants to say something, even leans forward and opens her mouth, but eventually she sits back when he sighs and shakes his head. “Enough of that,” he says, the fingers of his prosthetic hand slowly tapping against the table. “Let’s not sully this dinner with talk of my father. He has a tendency to ruin appetites.”

The conversation moves on after that, flowing easily between rehearsal anecdotes that Jaime shares from his past roles, and backstage gossip she’d heard in her time as a stage manager, ebbing and flowing across shared appetizers—apple tarts from the Reach, sweet but with a bite to them that she jokes is eerily reminiscent of Margaery. It’s easy to do this, to bandy words with him across a table and keep the conversation flowing without the awkward pauses that have always been there when she’s tried to befriend people in the past. Even sharing the difficult secrets she pretends don’t exist most of the time feels a little less terrifying when it’s Jaime she’s telling them to.

Perhaps that’s why she says it, when the main course has arrived and Jaime’s just made some dry comment about Hyle Hunt and his continued quest to win her over again, his voice oddly tight when he mentions the man’s dogged belief that he’ll succeed sooner or later. She’s never told the story before outside of her therapist’s office, and doubts she’ll tell it again, but there’s a soft voice in the back of her mind urging her to tell Jaime, that he’ll understand in a way she doubts her father would and Randyll Tarly certainly did _not_.

“He’s staking that belief on the erroneous assumption that I’ll forgive him without a proper apology,” she says suddenly, keeping her eyes on her plate as she moves her fork around without picking anything up. “And after what he did, that’s not happening anytime soon.”

Jaime pauses across from her, setting his own fork down with a clatter. “What _did_ he do?” he asks, his words a low murmur under the soft music and chatter filling the restaurant. “You don’t have to tell me, of course, but if you feel comfortable…”

For a moment, she hesitates, the careless twist to Tarly’s mouth and Ron Connington’s mocking laughter burning all too brightly at the forefront of her mind. And then she remembers Jaime pressing his face to her chest, whispering words about the man who’s haunted him for years despite having no reason to tell her beyond their burgeoning friendship that could never equal the bonds he shares with Addam and Elia. He’d trusted her with the greatest scar upon his soul, had let her see the jagged line the world had cut across his heart. She’d started this conversation with the same strange faith, some deeper instinct pushing her to share the story she’s kept locked in that corner of herself for so long. If he could find the words to tell his story, why shouldn’t she be able to do the same?

She swallows around the sudden lump in her throat and nods once before beginning. “I told you that I worked under Randyll Tarly for a while, on the show _Cry-Baby_ , shortly after I did _Murder Ballad_. It was Tarly, so from the beginning it was a mess of a production, but that wasn’t the worst part of the whole experience.”

She can feel the beacon of Jaime’s worried gaze fixed on her, but she can’t look up, can’t risk seeing that judgement in his eyes she desperately hopes won’t be there. “Hyle was in the ensemble for that one, along with Ron Connington. Connington was a dick from the beginning, along with a lot of other guys in the ensemble—it was mostly comments on my appearance, the kind of stuff he’d already bullied me for in high school, and I tried not to let it sting.”

“But it did,” Jaime murmurs, and she nods silently. Those words haven’t remained blaring bright and loud at the forefront of her mind the way Jaime’s past insults did. Still, a part of them has stayed with her all the same, burrowing in under the walls she’s thrown up around herself and sticking in the part of her mind that wishes she could step up and be as confident as Margaery or Asha or Arianne, that wishes she was better at asserting herself in non-defensive situations. 

“Then they started being nice to me out of nowhere, and Connington went so far as to come up to me and tell me I could trust him. He claimed he wasn’t the same as the kid I’d known in the past, and if I bothered to give him a chance I could see that for myself. Even Hyle, who’d mostly ignored me up until then, began to be friendly, and I started thinking I could believe them, that I might be able to find a place on the production after all. It was a mistake, but they were so convincing, and I really did want to believe that people could change for the better back then.”

She glances up in time to see Jaime wince a little, likely remembering their interactions at the first two readings with fresh eyes. He nods for her to go on when she sends him a questioning look, and so she continues, still staring down at her rapidly cooling salt cod—a Stormlands classic that’s one of her favourite meals when her stomach isn’t sitting heavy as a rock inside her.

“I thought things were going great for a while. I seemed to be making friends, and I did my job well enough that even Tarly couldn’t find much to complain about. But one day he called me into his office and told me I needed to either stop leading his cast on or walk away from the show. He said I was a distraction and impacting the ensemble’s focus because they were all so busy playing their silly game with me. I didn’t know what he meant at first, but he made it pretty clear not long after that.”

Her eyes are burning and she blinks rapidly to dispel the tears before they fall. “Turns out the guys in the ensemble thought it’d be funny to bet on who could steal a kiss from me, the supposed _ugliest woman they’d ever seen_ , first. They’d considered going even further than that, but decided against it when someone, apparently Hyle, pointed out there could be serious consequences if they did.”

Jaime growls deep in the back of his throat but says nothing, letting her ramble on without stopping to think. “Tarly told me what happened was my fault, that I should have stayed away from theatre altogether if I didn’t want that sort of thing to happen to me. I know better than to believe him now, but at the time I felt awful enough that it made a horrible kind of sense. I agreed to leave the production after that, which probably made him pretty happy, but...I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t come back after that, knowing I was just a massive fucking joke to those people, knowing no one was going to life a finger to support me even though I hadn’t done anything _wrong_.

“I ran into a couple of them the next day when I came back to grab my stuff from the theatre. Hyle...he tried to keep up the game for a bit, still hoping he could win it, but when I told him I knew, he laughed in my face and said he’d always known I wasn’t worth it, even if it meant getting his hands on my dad’s theatres, and that my inheritance was the only worthwhile thing about me. They were still laughing about it when I left.”

She lets out a choked sob before she can stop herself, and Jaime’s hand shoots across the table to wrap around her own immediately. “Gods, Brienne, I’m so sorry you had to endure that.”

“It was hard to take on a new show after that,” she admits, wiping at her eyes with her free hand. “I kept watching everyone warily, wondering who was gonna be the one to start my humiliation off this time around. Nothing ever happened, but…”

“You couldn’t forget,” he offers, and she nods again, blinking frantically while he squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry, Brienne. Both for all of that and...for everything I said to you before this show, too.”

“You already apologized for that,” she points out, laughing shakily. Her anger at Jaime’s a thing of the past now, after all the support he’s provided her with, after months of his friendship and his constant, steady presence at her side. “There’s no need to do it again.”

“I know,” he mumbles, red rising in his face as he glances away from her, “but I still feel bad, and hearing that...well, your reaction at the second reading makes a lot more sense now. I regret not punching Connington in the face when I had the chance to, although Hyle’s still an option.”

“Please don’t punch Hyle. I don’t want to have to explain this to Oberyn when you get in trouble for it.”

He doesn’t protest, instead smiling sadly at her before reaching out with his prosthetic hand to cover their joined ones. “Thank you, for trusting me with this. I can’t imagine it was easy for you to share.”

She nods again, not trusting herself to speak. Confessing the bet to Jaime has made her lighter, somehow, as if she’s sharing the burden of her most painful secret with someone else now. She doubts she’ll tell this story again, but...it feels good, to have someone else know and to have more proof that Tarly was wrong, she _wasn’t_ at fault, that none of her guilt in the years since has been justified. And to sit across from someone and tell them about the worst experience of her entire life, and to have them _listen_ to her, it’s something she’d once thought was as impossible as her performing dreams.

And now she has both, and, astonishingly, it doesn’t feel odd at all. 

For so many years, she’d resigned herself to lingering in the background, tall and awkward and quiet, only noticed when something was needed of her. And yet, here she is, sitting in a restaurant with tears in her eyes and Jaime Lannister’s hand wrapped around her own, inescapable proof that she _matters_ to these people, that her father isn’t the only one to care about her. 

They sit there for a long while, ignoring their dinners, Jaime’s thumb moving in slow circles over the back of her hand as the muted sounds of the restaurant fade away around them, until the only thing she’s aware of is her own breath in her ears and the warmth and gentle touch of Jaime’s hand against hers.

***

 **Lannister Heir Expected to Return to Family Business Come New Year**  
Petyr Baelish, ViswayNow  
September 15th, 2019

Jaime Lannister’s decision to work with the Martell family on their production of _Moulin Rouge!_ made waves earlier this year, considering the marked departure from his work with his own family; however, his father, producer Tywin Lannister, has stated that he expects his eldest son will find his way back to the Lannister Organization by the time the new year rolls around. 

“Jaime needed some time to think about things,” he said in a statement earlier today, “but he knows his family is the most important thing in his life and that his place is with us, not with an upstart theatre company that thinks it’s among the biggest on Visway. He’ll be back at Casterly Theatre before long to begin preparing for his future as CEO of this company.”

Although Jaime Lannister himself has yet to comment on his anticipated return to the family business, several other Lannisters have confirmed the reports, as well as actor Ronnet Connington, who recently joined the cast of _West Side Story_ after the unfortunate removal of Jorah Mormont. Connington, when speaking of his excitement at the new role, confessed that “Jaime isn’t happy on _Moulin Rouge!_ He told me he intended to come back very soon, and actually helped me get this role when the Martells unfairly fired me.”

Also suspiciously silent on the matter was Lannister’s ex-girlfriend, Cersei Baratheon, currently working with the Lannister Organization on _West Side Story_ , and who several insiders suspect was part of the reason for his homecoming. The Martells could not be reached for comment on Lannister’s probable departure from their show at this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter brought to you by my waking up way too early yet again. also by characters going on a date that's not actually a date but sure looks like one from the outside.
> 
> the restaurant name is a blatant _Hadestown_ reference and I'm not ashamed of this at all. I was gonna make it something asoiaf related but then I thought 'this is the perfect time to make a musical reference' and then Our Lady of the Underground came up on shuffle and here we are.
> 
> I am hoping to be more consistent with posting for the next few weeks! however I do have midterms this week, and also the smut swap is happening, and I will actually be around other people next week (yay!) so I make no guarantees about anything except that there will _definitely_ be a chapter next week because I have finally defeated the horny chapter. 
> 
> (do I have more notes for this chapter? I feel like I should have more notes for this chapter)
> 
> ooh, I did think of something: jaime only mentions learning about the roncon news, but he was actually reading something different when Brienne came outside. if you guess what it was, you get...not a prize, but I will congratulate you if you do. which probably isn't much incentive to guess anything.
> 
> next time: brienne observes rehearsals, costumes are tried on, and everyone is very, very horny.


	9. 2 Weeks to Opening/The Sparkling Diamond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries not to think too hard about how close they are to opening night most days, but Oberyn welcoming them to rehearsals by shouting, “Two weeks to first preview, folks!” isn’t at all helpful in easing her steadily increasing nerves. Even the normally calm and collected Obara looks a little panicky at the pronouncement, which only serves to make Brienne’s anxiety _worse_. 
> 
> Moving to onstage rehearsals has made things seem very real all of a sudden, and she’s found herself worrying about her upcoming Visway debut more and more as days tick past, bringing them ever closer to the real thing. It’s much harder to deny her new reality when the set is complete, they’re beginning to rehearse in full costume this afternoon, and their first audience will be seeing the show in fourteen days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been calling this chapter the horny chapter (derogatory) since I started writing it, which makes it perfect to post this week while everyone's still reading the smut swap fics. there are literally no warnings for this chapter because nothing happens in it except people are very, very horny. it was not originally supposed to be like this but what can I do?
> 
> thank you once again to sdwolfpup for betaing this!! and thank you for reading, and enjoy!

_Diamonds are forever  
They are all I need to please me  
They can stimulate and tease me  
They won’t leave in the night  
I’ve no fear that they might desert me…  
-The Sparkling Diamond, Moulin Rouge!_

_**Moulin Rouge!**_ **Co-Stars Cozy Up in King’s Landing Restaurant**  
Raven News Celebrity  
September 28th, 2019

Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth, the leads in the upcoming stage adaption of _Moulin Rouge!_ , seem to be spending a great deal of time together lately, as an anonymous source photographed the pair together at A Crack in the Wall, an up-and-coming restaurant popular among the celebrity couples that call King’s Landing home. The duo were captured holding hands across the table, and another source in the restaurant noted they were engaged in deep conversation for the entirety of their visit, which reportedly lasted several hours. Neither actor has made any mention of a potential relationship, but they are both presently unattached and have been that way for several years now. Lannister’s last public relationship was with actress Cersei Baratheon, while Tarth has yet to publicly announce a relationship in her time as her father’s heir. 

***

Brienne tries not to think too hard about how close they are to opening night most days, but Oberyn welcoming them to rehearsals by shouting, “Two weeks to first preview, folks!” isn’t at all helpful in easing her steadily increasing nerves. Even the normally calm and collected Obara looks a little panicky at the pronouncement, which only serves to make Brienne’s anxiety _worse_. 

Moving to onstage rehearsals has made things seem very real all of a sudden, and she’s found herself worrying about her upcoming Visway debut more and more as days tick past, bringing them ever closer to the real thing. It’s much harder to deny her new reality when the set is complete, they’re beginning to rehearse in full costume this afternoon, and their first audience will be seeing the show in fourteen days. 

They’re meant to begin with The Sparkling Diamond that morning, which means Brienne can retreat to a seat and watch as Jaime and Oberyn discuss Sebaston’s entrance with Melisandre, the scenic designer. Arys Oakheart, who’s somehow become their designated coffee person over the course of rehearsals, offers her a cup before hurrying over to join Addam, Quentyn, and Gendry in the wings, and she accepts with a grateful smile before turning her attention back to Jaime.

Whatever issue that arose with his entrance seems to have been solved, because he’s nodding and moving into the wings with Melisandre to prepare for the beginning of the number. Before he disappears behind the curtain, he catches her gaze and winks at her, and warmth flares in her gut. 

She always seems to be clamping down on feelings like that whenever Jaime’s nearby, leaning into her as they laugh about some joke Asha’s just made or grabbing her hand to tug her down the hall because they’re running late or a thousand other little moments they’ve shared throughout the chaos of rehearsals and everyone’s increasingly obvious nerves. Whatever it means is beyond her—it’s certainly not something she’s felt with her other friends among the cast—but it’s apparently here to stay. 

It’s not a terrible thing to live with, really. The warmth that stirs whenever Jaime makes a point of seeking her out or finds some little excuse to touch her is easier to handle than some of the _other_ things she’s observed. Her heart’s started leaping in her chest every time they’re rehearsing a romantic moment and he’s smiling up at her, adoration plain on his face, and she spends a lot of time scolding it because they’re _acting, dammit_. After telling Jaime about the bet over dinner, she’d spent an evening lying in bed comparing Hyle’s laughable attempts at courtship to her friendship with Jaime, which is ridiculous because the circumstances of both are so different. And there’s other things, too: the meaningful looks their castmates sometimes exchange whenever she and Jaime leave together to grab a meal, how Oberyn had described them as _a matched set_ to Daenerys, the almost frightening gleam that occasionally appears in Margaery’s eyes when she mentions Jaime while hanging out with the other woman. 

None of it means anything, of course, but she can’t help tallying them all in her head anyways. A large part of her wants to compare it to her long-ago infatuation with Renly Baratheon—a handsome man showing her a bit of kindness being built up into something far more significant inside her head—but even that’s not true, because Jaime’s her friend in a way Renly never was. It’s so much more complicated this time around.

Still, she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Never has she felt as welcome as she has among the _Moulin Rouge!_ cast, and never has she known this kind of friendship and support from so many different people. Whatever weird feelings she has regarding Jaime pale when compared to the joy she feels walking into the theatre every day to the delighted greetings of her costars and _friends_ , to Oberyn’s warm encouragement during the long hours of rehearsal and Ellaria’s enthusiasm every time they nail a particularly tricky bit of choreography. She’s heard performers talk about finding a home in the theatre before, but she’d never known what that looked like until now.

Oberyn claps his hands and hops off the stage, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Alright, Nymeria, let’s get this started!” he calls towards the pit, tucked under the front of the stage.

Arianne steps up to her position as a drumroll begins, Addam, Gendry, Quentyn, and Arys gathering behind her as she delivers her cue lines before raising the cane in her hands to point directly at the rafters. The music shifts to shimmering chords that send shivers up Brienne’s spine as the lights dim, a single spotlight pointing to Jaime as he descends from above, and she barely stifles a gasp at his appearance.

They’re still wearing street clothes—the costumes are supposed to be complete and ready for them to try on later today—but the blue lighting sparkling against a silver-and-black backdrop, the ethereal music, and the cool smirk on Jaime’s lips as he scans the rows of empty seats filled with a handful of half-awake actors render any costuming unnecessary to create the effect she knows Oberyn wants from this number. With his hands—real and artificial—curled elegantly around the cables supporting his descent and his green eyes glittering with excitement, he looks incredible, seductive and charming and joyful all at once in a way no one person should be able to pull off.

She knows he’s a damn good actor. They spend half their time together or watching each other; she has more than ample proof of the fact. But gods, he could seduce _her_ with little more than a look right now, and she’s been around him long enough to build up resistance to his beauty, to the way he shines brighter than the sun when he’s smiling, to the temptation of his messy golden hair and strong arms. 

It’s even worse when he begins to sing, his voice pitched a little deeper than normal. Heat pools in her belly as she stiffens in her seat and even Margaery looks ready to swoon as he lifts his head to expose his bare throat, framed by the soft tee he’s wearing.

At one point, as he leans to the side, his smirk widening, and turning almost predatory, he looks directly at her spot in the front row, and she shifts slightly, the rich dulcet tone of his voice and the teasing hint in his expression aimed at her almost more than she can handle. A few seats over, Obara grins in Brienne’s direction and moves to sit next to her, nodding towards Jaime with a knowing look in her eyes.

“How’re you handling this?” she asks quietly, making sure her voice doesn’t carry to those on stage or in the wings. “It’s a lot, seeing him perform.”

“He’s _really_ good,” Brienne mutters, shaking her head. “I mean, I already knew he was good, but…”

“This is a whole different ball game,” Obara agrees with a quick nod. “I don’t know how we’re going to survive seeing him do this in full costume. I’m not sure how any of our audiences are gonna survive this show, actually.”

“Margaery’s barely handling this and I know she’s not into men, so yeah, you may have a point there.”

Obara grins again. “Oh, I think it’ll be unbearable in more than just one respect.”

Brienne frowns at Obara, but her friend doesn’t elaborate, and they return to watching the action as Jaime touches down on the stage and steps free of the trapeze, waiting for it to rise back up to the rafters along with the backdrop and the music to change before turning and sashaying towards the back of the stage, his hips swaying and drawing her attention directly to his ass. 

Obara nudges her, and Brienne flushes before glancing away and missing the next few lines. When she looks back, Jaime’s standing center stage, gesturing for the ensemble to join him with a crook of his finger that draws the female ensemble onto the stage as smoothly as if he’d pulled them over via rope. 

The ensemble bounds across the stage, circling him as he continues to gesture passionately, swirling about in broad arcs that have Ellaria smiling proudly from off to the side. As the section comes to a close, Jaime’s lifted into the air by the dancers and carried towards the front of the stage, stomping his foot the instant he returns to the ground and sending the women stumbling backwards as the music shifts to a pop beat. The male ensemble enters then, gliding in from the sides to form a vee with Jaime front and center in the middle of the stage.

“Everything’s really starting to come together,” Obara murmurs, a fond grin on her face as she watches the rehearsal continue. “I actually think we might be ready when previews begin.”

Brienne nods absently, distracted by Jaime as he struts back and forth with the rest of the male ensemble and the four dancers: Addam, Quentyn, Gendry, and Arys. The dance has all the sass and challenge of the original song they’re sampling, and there’s nothing he’s doing that the rest of the cast isn’t—beyond singing the main vocal line, of course. But for some reason it’s him her eyes are lingering on, unable to look away from the motion of his hips and the flick of his fingers when he spreads his arms wide in a gesture that’s both invitation and confrontation at the same time.

The purple-blue light glints in his hair, his voice lifts up higher but still rumbles deep in her chest, a suggestion lingering in his tone that makes the thought of running onto the stage and accepting whatever he’ll offer extremely tempting. It’s a foolish thought—this is a performance, albeit a very convincing one—but she can’t let it go, can’t keep it from lingering in the back of her mind as the number continues and the full ensemble floods back onto the stage when the music shifts a third time.

And then the lighting changes, and Jaime stumbles, and for a moment she forgets that this is scripted and her heart leaps into her throat as he shakily tries to rise, his left hand pressed against his chest. There’s terror on his face when Addam surges forward to help him rise, and though she knows it’s part of the show, and Jaime’s perfectly fine, it cuts deep to even _imagine_ him in pain, struggling to breathe like his character’s meant to be in that moment.

He recovers, and the song continues like nothing ever happened, and she sits shaking in her seat, telling herself _it’s not real, he’s just acting_ over and over again, hoping this time will be the one that convinces her of the truth. It’s a rare performance that’s able to rattle her this deeply, and the fact that Jaime’s done so now bodes well for how it’ll go once audiences come in, only two weeks from now. The thought isn’t enough to soothe her frazzled nerves, but she forces her breathing to even out and hopes Obara was too preoccupied to notice her distress.

If Obara _did_ see, she keeps her mouth shut, and the rest of the number proceeds without incident. When it’s done, the few of them sitting in the house applaud, the sound small and echoing in the mostly empty theatre. Very soon, their small wave of clapping will be replaced by the noise of fourteen hundred people—hopefully—cheering for them at the end of each number, night after night after night. The thought’s equally exhilarating and terrifying, and Brienne would much prefer to ignore it until it’s fully on top of them and they have no other choice but to think about that fact.

Oberyn offers a few suggestions to Jaime and the ensemble before dismissing them and calling Brienne and Obara up so they can run through Nature Boy, forcing her to leave her thoughts behind in her seat as she makes her way onto the stage. They’re too close to the end—or beginning—for her to lose herself in distractions now, even if she’s not sure _why_ Jaime’s impacting her ability to focus so much.

It’ll be good for her performance, though, her constant attention to him whenever they share the stage. The last few months have taught her it’s incredibly difficult to make a love story believable. Whatever magnetic appeal Jaime seems to have that draws her in can only be of benefit. Oberyn certainly hasn’t complained about it, and while he’s polite he’s never shied away from telling her when some element of her performance needs to be fixed.

Still, she can’t let herself fall prey to the allure of her co-lead, no matter how handsome or charming or talented he might be. This is her chance, and, as her father has so often reminded her, it may be the only one she’ll get. 

_Nothing matters but the show_ , she thinks, pounds it into her head until it’s a steady beat, constantly pulsing in the back of her mind. _Nothing can pull me away from it_.

When Oberyn calls for the number begin, she lifts her head, sets her shoulders, and rearranges her face to the melancholy and heartbreak of Cyrenna, and refuses to let anything else sneak into her mind, her only thought the next line, the next move, and whatever she needs to do to make them blend together and create the smooth image she’ll present to the audience when the time finally comes to let them in the doors and show off what they’ve created.

***

 **biggest visway stan @alayne_of_the_vale**  
omg two weeks until moulin rouge starts performances i can’t wait to see it!!!

 **biggest visway stan @alayne_of_the_vale**  
**__**_Replying to @alayne_of_the_vale_  
always thought @btarth was SO underappreciated in murder ballad and when she was working for the stark family. can’t believe it’s taken this long for someone to see how talented she is and give her the chance to shine she earned years ago

 **jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
**__**_Replying to @alayne_of_the_vale_  
second the @btarth appreciation, and i’m hoping we see some quality work from @j_lannister as well considering how different the circumstances of his return to the stage are from anything else he’s done!

 **Biggest visway stan @alayne_of_the_vale**  
**__**_Replying to @thesuperiorjeyne_  
oh, absolutely, i’m super curious to see what he does w this role. also hoping all the rumours about him possibly going back to work for his fam are lies bc honestly his family sucks and i’ll lose any respect i might have for him if he supports them after everything they’ve done

 **jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
**__**_Replying to @alayne_of_the_vale_  
one can only hope, sadly

***

At the end of lunch break, Satin Flowers, the costume designer, calls most of the cast over to take a look at their completed costumes. They’ve been eagerly awaiting this moment for weeks now, and everyone’s excitement is palpable as Jaime traipses downstairs, chatting idly with Addam about nothing in particular. 

Trying on his costumes for the first time has always been the moment where everything feels _real_ for Jaime. Not that the knowledge and pressure of a rapidly approaching opening night aren’t there before, but it’s still the instant when everything clicks, when he truly begins to understand his character and how he intends to play them. _Really stepping into their shoes, so to speak._

Other people have their particular moments of connection—he knows for Addam it doesn’t really hit until the morning of first preview, and Brienne seems to have been stuck by it when she took her first steps onto the stage—but this is his, and he’s grown to anticipate it more than almost any other over the years. To Jaime, there’s nothing more thrilling than looking into the mirror and seeing his character stare back, and it’s always startling, even years after he’d first begun acting when it should no longer be such a novelty.

He steps into the region of the theatre basement that’s become Satin’s domain right on Arianne’s heels and freezes almost instantly, gaping at the glittering costumes and silk-smooth fabric on all sides, at the intricate detail of the sketches Satin had shown them weeks ago come to life around them. He’s seen some incredible costume design in his day, but this is a particularly remarkable feat of artistry on the young man’s part.

“Holy shit, this is incredible,” Addam says, letting out a low whistle as he turns in place to stare at the costumes. “I can’t believe we’re gonna _wear_ these.”

“We’re going to look _so_ good,” Asha gushes, appearing out of seemingly nowhere to sling an arm around both their shoulders and pull them closer to her. “Although you’re gonna look better than most, Jaime, with the sheer variety of costumes you have.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jaime groans, shaking his head. “ _Fifteen_ costumes, Asha. How many do you have, again? One?”

He flips Addam off when his friend starts laughing at Asha’s smug grin. “Actually, I think I have two, but I doubt you care about that,” she replies, ignoring Jaime’s glare in favour of bouncing away to run her hands over a jacket hung up nearby. “Hey, don’t look so sulky about it. At least your costumes aren’t gonna be soaked in sweat by the end of each performance.”

“ _Fifteen_ ,” Jaime shouts after her as she darts away. Addam’s still laughing beside him, but he does his best to stifle it when Satin approaches, his eyes lighting up as he studies Jaime.

“Jaime!” Satin cries, rubbing his hands together before gesturing for Jaime to follow him. “You’ve got a lot of costumes for us to go through, so let’s start with something easy: your Come What May outfit.”

Before Jaime has time to form a reply—or make Addam stop laughing somehow—one of the dressers flitting around the room approaches with a black robe draped over his arm and guides Jaime into a dressing room. The dresser hands the robe to him along with a pile of black fabric he can’t quite identify and begins explaining in quick words. 

“The dress’ll be worn during Backstage Romance as well, and you’ll be handed the robe in between that and your entrance before Come What May begins so you can put it on over that. It’s nothing too difficult, but I’ll be right outside so you can let me know if you have any trouble.”

He changes quickly, removing his prosthesis beforehand so it doesn’t get caught in the delicate fabric. Lacing up the back of the dress proves impossible with one hand, so he calls for the dresser—Anders Yronwood, he learns during that time—who helps him and guides him out once the robe is draped over his shoulders so Satin can check for any necessary adjustments.

Jaime pauses on the way out, turning back to study his reflection in the mirror. He looks…

He twists in place several times, watching the fabric of the robe swish around his legs and not realizing he’s smiling broadly until he raises his gaze to the mirror again. He looks like Sebaston. Oh, there’s hints of _Jaime_ left over—mainly since he’s not schooling his facial expressions like he would be onstage—but it doesn’t really feel like _him_ when he studies his reflection, and it’s delightful. 

There’s something freeing about stepping into a character’s skin, in looking at himself and seeing a stranger with his own eyes, and he’s always relished how transforming that moment can be, how it forces him to stop and think about things he’s never really thought about before. _Jaime_ wouldn’t be standing here with silky-smooth black fabric cinched tight around his waist, but _Sebaston_ would be, and it’s with that knowledge that he turns and follows Anders the rest of the way, biting down on a grin the whole time.

When he steps out into the main room again, the first person he sees is Brienne, and he freezes in place for a second time, his eyes unable to waver from where they’re fixed on her.

She’s standing in the middle of the room, her shoulders hunched around her ears while Satin and one of the dressers flit around her, making final adjustments to her costume. It’s nothing extravagant—especially not when compared to some of the concept sketches he’s seen for his own outfits—but the clean, close-fitting lines of her dark pants and blue waistcoat, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up to expose the muscles of her lower arms, it all suits her incredibly well, enhancing her strength and size and making her look even more majestic than she normally does.

When he takes a slow, unsteady step closer, he sees the ribbon tied around her neck, and he’s abruptly struck by an image of her untying it in a series of smooth motions, her long fingers dancing around the edges of the fabric before she pulls it free to uncover the smooth skin of her neck, the movement of her throat as she swallows. Before his brain can take the image and stray further into confusing fantasies, he shoves the thought aside while relentlessly scolding himself for thinking something like that about his friend and coworker.

He needs to snap out of...whatever this is. There’s no reason why he should be so impacted by the sight of Brienne in costume. And it’s not something he can keep letting slide, either. He certainly won’t be afforded the time to handle it every time she steps on stage dressed exactly like this.

Satin saves him by coming over again, a broad smile spreading across his face as he scans Jaime from head to toe. “Well, this looks pretty good so far! The robe doesn’t need to fit exactly, so that’s fine, but let’s take it off and see how everything else fits.”

Jaime nods and shrugs the robe off easily, handing it to Anders so his dresser can put it away properly. He turns to fully face Satin, giving the man a better view, which also provides him with a full view of Brienne when her jaw drops and she very carefully turns away from him, a bright red flush spreading across her face.

“Good, good,” Satin murmurs, pacing around Jaime in a slow circle, his eyes gliding over the exposed length of his arms before he comes to a stop and nods again. “I might bring in the waist a tiny bit, but this one needs to be flowing for ease of movement so too many adjustments will defeat the purpose. Let’s get you into costume for Firework and most of the stuff after it next.”

Anders darts away to go grab the costume, leaving Jaime with a few minutes to watch Brienne as she tugs at the lapels of her waistcoat and pivots back and forth to study the details of her outfit. The blue of her shirt doesn’t quite match that of her eyes, but it’s close enough to bring the colour out, and they’re sparkling with delight as the nerves that had possessed her earlier fade away.

She’s still not looking in his direction, but he’d rather not have her catch him gazing at her, so that works out fine—even if he _is_ being deprived of her smile.

“You’re staring,” Addam whispers in his ear, brushing past him on his way back from the dressing room, and Jaime jolts, turning away to glare at his friend. Addam’s also in costume now, clad in a black corset and very little else, and Jaime offers an appreciative look before his attention’s pulled back to Brienne, now being pulled away by her own dresser, a sweet young woman by the name of Pia Peckledon.

His next costume is sheer black lace, tight around the waist and leaving most of his clavicle exposed even with the flimsy shawl he pulls over it. When he emerges, Satin clicks his tongue, weaving around to make several minute adjustments before frowning at the empty space where Jaime’s right hand should be.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing your prosthesis?” he asks. “You’ll be wearing it onstage, so I’d like to get a sense of how it’ll look with your costumes.”

“We’re worried about it catching on the fabric and tearing it,” Anders explains, gesturing to the thin material of Jaime’s costume. “Something’ll have to be worked out before the actual show, but for now it’s safest to leave it off.”

Satin nods slowly, his eyes turning distant. “We’ll have to come up with something to solve that problem, then, since you’ve got some pretty quick changes to make. A glove or cover might be good, something that’ll allow you full range of motion but also protect the costumes from any damage. When we’re done, bring your hand to me and I’ll make some measurements for that. In the meantime, let’s see your costume for Roxanne while I wrap up this last thing with Brienne.”

 _This last thing_ turns out to be handing her a long jacket to pull on over her costume as she wraps a scarf around her neck. Her jacket matches the deep blue of her waistcoat, and while it—unfortunately—hides the muscles of her arms from view, it also emphasizes her broad shoulders even more. Jaime stares at the line of her back for an indecently long time before Anders pulls him away again, and he follows his dresser with no small measure of reluctance.

This time, Anders helps Jaime into a long red gown that spills onto the floor, pooling around his feet so that he has to lift it to be able to walk freely. He works his prosthetic hand back on while a series of necklaces are looped around his neck, hanging heavy and chain-like in front of him, and then his arms are covered by red gloves rising past his elbows.

The skirt flows around him when he walks back out so Satin can make his final inspection, and he’s suddenly grinning delightedly when the thought hits him that his father would _never_ have allowed something like this. Tywin Lannister is too set in his ways to even consider letting the women in his cast wear waistcoats and cravats or permitting the men to don dresses and corsets. It’s freeing to walk away from the limits of that world, to know no one here will judge him for what he’s wearing beyond whether or not it suits him, even if he wishes he’d done more to prevent his father from building up that kind of culture over all his years of holding power on Visway.

Satin’s fiddling with Brienne’s costume when Jaime arrives, frowning as he pinches the fabric together while Pia flutters around them both. They all glance up at his approach, however, and Brienne very abruptly turns around while Pia’s jaw drops and Satin’s eyes light up with delight.

“Incredible,” he murmurs, circling around Jaime before stepping closer. “I didn’t expect it to turn out nearly this well.”

“You’ve outdone yourself,” Jaime tells Satin, slowly spinning around and letting the skirt flow out around him. “Everything looks so good.”

Satin hums thoughtfully, a slight smile crossing his face at the praise. “Well, I do try. Let’s take a closer look at this, while Pia gets Brienne into her own Roxanne costume.”

Brienne offers Satin a grateful smile and vanishes behind a rack of costumes with Pia trailing behind her. Her face is as red as the fabric of Jaime’s dress, and she’s avoiding his gaze a little too carefully for it to be anything other than deliberate. 

It stings, for some reason he can’t quite explain. He knows Brienne likes him—she wouldn’t have told him about the bet if she didn’t—but he can’t shake the fear that someday she’ll realize he’s no better than the rest of his family and walk away like so many others have. Her refusal to look at him right now may have nothing to do with that, but it’s not a good sign.

Even though it’s currently the only thing saving him from humiliating himself by approaching her and telling her how good she looks in full costume. It’s a compliment, and a true one at that, but he can’t think of a way to phrase it without coming across as weirdly horny, and despite his unruly thoughts about her biceps he’s really not like that at all. 

Then Brienne reappears wearing a long jacket of dark leather and a rumpled shirt unbuttoned enough to expose the vee between her breasts, and every sensible thought he’s ever had flees his head.

Her blue waistcoat had emphasized her strength in a gentle way that’s oddly left him craving her strong arms wrapped around him, protecting him from the world as she had when he’d broken down in his dressing room a month ago, but this outfit highlights her size, has him feeling smaller than he’s ever felt before as he stares up at her. The difference between their heights isn’t that significant, but it _feels_ immense now, and he’s suddenly harbouring a thousand fantasies about her looming over him in bed, her hands gently pressed against his sides, the collar of her shirt tugged to the side to expose her breasts to his hungry gaze...

 _Enough, Lannister_ , he tells himself sternly, looking away before all his blood can rush to his cock and leave him dizzy and distracted. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts about his co-star and friend, and he doubts Brienne would be very happy should she learn about it. It’s entirely unprofessional, and he’s been in this industry long enough to know better than to think this way.

It’s his turn to look away from Brienne, and he keeps his gaze fixed on the far wall while Satin paces around him, occasionally swooping in to adjust part of the outfit while muttering under his breath. He’s no longer arrogant enough to think her own ability to look his way is in any way similar to his, but for a moment he entertains the thought, imagines she’s as overcome by the sight of him in costume as he is.

“Alright, I think we’re good,” Satin says, backing away and dusting off his hands. “Can we check out your Crazy Rolling outfit next?”

“Need to make sure I look good when I die, I see,” Jaime jokes, and both Satin and Anders laugh before he’s hustled off to the dressing room again, this time to be dressed in a simple dress with a thin black skirt and bodice painted half red. It’s not as long and cumbersome as the previous dress, and he’s able to stride along without carrying the skirt.

Brienne’s not there when he returns to the main room, and Satin appears to have vanished as well, but Arianne’s standing in the middle of the room, wearing a bright red jacket over a gold waistcoat and grinning broadly at him. “Damn, Lannister,” she says, gesturing for him to come closer. “You look good.”

“So do you,” he tells her with his own grin, and she offers a half-bow before twirling around, her coat flaring out behind her. “How does it feel to only have a couple different costumes throughout the entire show? I’ve only tried on four and I’m already exhausted.”

“You poor, poor soul,” Arianne says, not sounding pitying at all as she slings an arm around his shoulders. “It’s wonderful, and I’m going to relentlessly laugh at you when you’re scrambling to change in the wings between pretty much every number. Which one is this, again? You have so many costumes that I can’t possibly keep track of them all.”

“This is what I’m gonna die in. Do you think it’s suited for a tragic ending, or…”

“No, no, it’s perfect.” She steps backwards, frowning thoughtfully. “If you’re gonna die while cradled in Brienne’s strong arms, it’s the ideal outfit.”

He loves Arianne dearly, but he really does _not_ need to spend more time thinking about Brienne’s arms wrapped around him and holding him steady, and it’s only the return of the woman in question that keeps him from hissing exactly that into Arianne’s ear. Tragically—or luckily—her arms are hidden beneath a patterned black-and-silver jacket, but she’s wearing a new waistcoat, a black one cut low to bare her throat and a large swath of her chest, and he’s once again looking away in order to retain his composure.

Satin reemerges from where he’s disappeared behind several members of the ensemble, turning his attention to Brienne first and putting Jaime in the unfortunate position of having to choose between watching Brienne or talking to an increasingly smug looking Arianne, who seems far too aware of Jaime’s internal monologue for his liking. Margaery’s another option, standing across the room admiring the black suit of her costume—as she should, it looks marvelous—but if she gets a sense of where his thoughts keep venturing she’ll be even worse to deal with than Arianne.

The decision is made for him when Satin quickly finishes with Brienne and his attention swivels to Jaime, a critical eye sweeping over the dress before he nods once and steps away from Brienne. She glances over her shoulder at the movement, and a rapid series of expressions Jaime can’t interpret sweeps across her face.

“I think this one’ll need a few more adjustments,” Satin murmurs, indicating for Jaime to shrug off the robe covering his bare shoulders so he can see better. It’s chilly in the basement, and he resists the urge to shiver when Anders takes the robe and steps aside to allow Satin room to work.

“If we’re done, can I go?” Brienne asks suddenly, half-turning enough to address the question to Satin while she carefully avoids looking in Jaime’s direction. Another pang goes shooting through him, and he briefly wonders if she still holds a grudge against him after all before shaking the thought off at the memory of her words over dinner two weeks ago. Her cheeks are flushed again, though, and he wonders if she’s sick, since it’s not that warm down in the basement.

Hopefully she isn’t sick, since the timing’s absolutely atrocious. It’d be better to take time away now rather than right at the beginning of the run, but poor Oberyn might have a heart attack if one of his leads has to step away when there’s so much to arrange with just two weeks left to get it all done.

“Sure, go ahead,” Satin tells her before returning his attention to Jaime. He mutters a few things under his breath, but Jaime’s too busy watching Brienne dart off with Pia trailing behind her to pay attention. 

He doesn’t know what’s come over him today—perhaps it’s just an effect of the dazzling sensuality of everyone’s costumes?—but whatever it is, he needs to move past it, and quickly. Brienne doesn’t deserve him leering at her when he should be supporting her like any good costar would, and he doesn’t stand a chance of re-earning his place in theatre if he continues to be distracted by her. It’s not fair to the rest of the cast, either, and he’s well past the days when he’d be selfish enough to sabotage them in the pursuit of his own interests.

Besides, he has ten more costumes to try on, and multiple quick changes that’ll need to be worked out so neither the costume or his prosthesis get damaged. Now is not the time to engage in fantasies about his incredibly strong co-lead.

When he goes home that night, however, he’s plagued by dreams he can only half-recall the next morning, waking half-hard with the faint impression of strong arms and warm mouths and brilliant blue eyes, shining so bright and delighted in his memory that it takes him far too long to tear his gaze away from Brienne’s when he greets her the next morning.

***

 **Satin Flowers:** you are not going to BELIEVE how much sexual tension i had to deal with today

 **Jon Snow:** weren’t you trying out the moulin rouge costumes today? Why would there be sexual tension involved?

 **Satin Flowers:** i have never seen two co-stars more likely to end up together in my life than these two okay  
**Satin Flowers:** seriously you have no idea how ridiculous the tension was  
**Satin Flowers:** i felt awkward being in the same room as them it was so obvious  
**Satin Flowers:** i suddenly have a lot more sympathy for anyone who might’ve been stuck in the same room as the two of us before we figured out our feelings

 **Jon Snow:** wait which ones  
**Jon Snow:** there’s a lot of actors involved in that production

 **Satin Flowers:** aren’t there a lot of actors involved in every production though

 **Jon Snow:** YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN

 **Satin Flowers:** yes dear sorry about that  
**Satin Flowers:** anyway it’s jaime lannister and brienne tarth  
**Satin Flowers:** he wouldn’t stop staring at her and she couldn’t look directly at him  
**Satin Flowers:** it was unbearable i wanted to shove them in a dressing room together and leave them for a while to see if they’d figure it out

 **Jon Snow:** it didn’t work with us i doubt they’d be any more emotionally aware  
**Jon Snow:** which, i will acknowledge, was entirely my fault  
**Jon Snow:** i know you were ready to make out with me as soon as i gave the slightest hint that i returned your interest in me

 **Satin Flowers:** FINALLY THANK YOU  
**Satin Flowers:** yeah, and they were in costume  
**Satin Flowers:** i didn’t want to risk them messing up all my hard work

 **Jon Snow:** ...i love you  
**Jon Snow:** please never change  
**Jon Snow:** but also tell me more about the sexual tension now i’m intrigued

 **Satin Flowers:** anything for you 😘

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you'd like some visual reference for the costumes in this chapter, I've compiled them all into a [Tumblr post](https://potatothecat.tumblr.com/post/643284962577186816/some-visual-references-for-chapter-9-of-turn-up) for your viewing pleasure. apologies for how varied the quality of these are, because as I mention in the post some of them are literal bootleg screenshots. 
> 
> writing this chapter was interesting because I spent a lot of time writing jaime thirst over brienne while she wears aaron tveit's costumes from the show. irl I could not care less about aaron tveit; I'm here for karen olivo. she is quite literally the reason I'm into this show, in case you were curious about it. 
> 
> next time: a phone call takes place, Tywin Lannister continues to plot, and brienne has an unwanted companion at lunchtime.


	10. 2 Days to Opening/Coffee's On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been almost six months since Jaime last spoke to his brother, which is why he starts when his phone lights up with Tyrion’s name on the screen. He wouldn’t normally leave rehearsals when there’s a possibility he’ll be needed, but the opportunities to speak to Tyrion are so few and far between that he stands, pointing at his phone when Oberyn raises an eyebrow at him, and ducks out into the hallway before pressing answer on his phone and putting it to his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know about the rest of you, but i'm getting increasingly excited at the prospect of finally putting these idiots on a stage in front of an audience. i'm either getting desperate without theatre or just really overinvested in my own fic at this point.
> 
> warnings for this chapter: there's some discussion of murder and past child abuse (thanks tywin), as well as a few brief mentions of what happened to brienne in the past. also a character makes a couple sexist comments near the end, and if you're a major tyrion fan you probably won't be a big fan of this chapter.
> 
> once again, thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this! also i can be found on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) if you want to come yell at me there! thank you for reading, and enjoy!!

_You are the morning  
You start each day anew  
As if it were so simple  
I guess it is for you…  
-Coffee’s On, Murder Ballad_

**Tywin Lannister Claims His Son is Returning to Lannister Organization**  
Raven News Theatre  
October 10th, 2019

After several weeks of hinting at the subject, theatre great Tywin Lannister announced today that, “My son is returning home, and we have already discussed it with him several times now. Any claims to the contrary are blatant lies and cannot be trusted.” His pronouncement came in response to several recent insinuations that he has been falsely claiming his son Jaime will return to the Lannister Organization.

Lannister’s statement has not been confirmed as factual by anyone outside the Lannister Organization at present, which many believe implies there is a lack of truth in his claims. Since neither Jaime Lannister nor his current employers, the Martell family, have reported he will be departing the _Moulin Rouge!_ production to rejoin the family business, Lannister’s words are especially suspect.

This is not the first such statement the struggling producer has made in recent months. After he was pressured into firing Jorah Mormont from _West Side Story_ , many suspected Jaime Lannister would replace the disgraced actor due to his father’s implications, resulting in considerable surprise when Ronnet Connington was announced as Mormont’s replacement instead. Jaime Lannister has yet to respond to any of his father’s statements, however, adding further uncertainty to an already tangled knot of rumours surrounding the whole situation.

***

It’s been almost six months since Jaime last spoke to his brother, which is why he starts when his phone lights up with Tyrion’s name on the screen. He wouldn’t normally leave rehearsals when there’s a possibility he’ll be needed, but the opportunities to speak to Tyrion are so few and far between that he stands, pointing at his phone when Oberyn raises an eyebrow at him, and ducks out into the hallway before pressing answer on his phone and putting it to his ear.

“Tyrion,” he says quietly, wincing at the sound of something crashing on the other end of the line. “You alright? It’s been a while since I last heard from you.”

There’s more crashing, a grunt, and the distant sound of a shouted apology, and then his brother’s cheery voice is in his ear. “Jaime! Good to hear from you at last!”

Jaime sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You _know_ I’m not supposed to be calling you, since you’re still wanted for murder charges over here.”

“You always let the stupidest things spoil your fun,” Tyrion says, the noise around him suddenly growing muffled, as if he’s stepped out into a hallway. “Why not come join me in Essos? My life’s all parties and gorgeous women and no need to worry about Father or whatever shit he’s pulled this time. It’d be so much better for you than life in King’s Landing!”

Jaime bites down on his lip to avoid blurting out _where exactly in Essos are you, anyways?_ Not knowing is better for them both—this way he can pretend his brother’s on his way home to face the music, and Tyrion can pretend he’s safe from Jaime turning him in should he find out precisely where his brother’s been spending his time. 

“You really should come over here,” Tyrion is saying, ignoring Jaime’s silence. “Why bother staying in Westeros, with Father and Cersei and an industry that won’t welcome a one-handed man back into the fold? They’ve got nothing to offer you.”

He won’t tell his brother how much it stings to hear that. Bitter experience has taught him that Tyrion doesn’t care, not really. He never understood why Jaime chose the stage, chose to dedicate his life to a career that could so easily leave him stranded if their father decided to cut him off. He never bothered, because why should he? All he needed to know is that Jaime would protect him if necessary, has always protected him even if he doesn’t really deserve it.

And the thing is, Jaime gets it. Tyrion has only seen the worst of the theatre industry, from their father and from so many other people who never bothered to give him a chance because one look was enough to tell them everything they wanted to know. His brother doesn’t have Brienne’s infinite patience, the ability to wait for someone to realize his talents. He’s always wanted to be seen for his skills, not for his appearance, ever since Tywin took one look at his younger child and decided in that moment Tyrion would never be anything more than a disappointment.

Jaime won’t deny that there’s a dark underbelly Visway tries to keep well-hidden. He’s seen how it shunned his brother, how it snapped and snarled in his direction when he lost his hand, how it’d ostracized the Martells for so many years and still doesn’t bother treating them with the respect they deserve. But there’s so much _good_ within it as well, and Tyrion has never tried to look for that. In his mind, it’s all too clear that the industry hates him, so he should never bother to give a shit about it.

“I can’t leave,” Jaime says eventually, instead of all the other things he wants to tell his brother but won’t. “I have a show opening in a few days. But you...you enjoy yourself for me, okay?”

“A show!” Tyrion exclaims, before bursting into laughter. “That’s a terrible excuse. What fool would hire you? You’re useless without both hands, brother.”

“Doran Martell would,” he growls out, his hand tightening around his phone. “Not everyone on Visway is like Father, you know.”

He can’t see his brother, but he can imagine he’ll be shrugging carelessly, unbothered by Jaime’s irritation. “Well, how do you expect me to know that? I’ve never seen the point of caring about something so frivolous, and I’m still not sure why you and Father spend so much time fretting about it.”

 _You don’t understand_ , he wants to scream, has wanted to say for years. _I care because I love it, because I love performing and sharing a story with people eight times a week._ But Tyrion had decided to hate the theatre and the people within it long ago, and he’s spent all the years since telling Jaime he should hate it too, refusing to listen to his brother’s attempts to explain why he couldn’t turn his back on Visway, why he’d given his heart to it the first time he sat in a theatre and watched the lights go down until a single spotlight remained pointed at the stage.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mutters, and falls silent while Tyrion prattles on about some party he’s attended or some other story Jaime’s heard versions of a thousand times, even before his brother fled Westeros. Talking to his brother is always an exercise in restraining his temper. Tyrion can be even more infuriating than their father sometimes—he’d never tell his brother that, but it’s the truth—but he’s also seen how easy it is to hurt his brother with thoughtless words, and they both know all too well how hard things were for each other growing up.

Brienne walks past him with a water bottle in hand, and he quirks his eyebrows at her in a silent question. She nods once, tilting her head towards the theatre door before holding up her hand, all five fingers extended, and he nods before returning his attention to his brother, still chattering in his ear. 

“Listen, I have to go,” he says, interrupting the next part of Tyrion’s story. “Brienne says they can only give me five minutes before I’m needed again.”

“Who’s Brienne?” 

“My costar. She’s incredible. Far more talented than I could hope to be, and a delightful person to know on top of that.”

“Oh, she’s _incredible_ ,” Tyrion says, rolling the words on his tongue, and Jaime immediately stiffens. “Interesting. Is there anything else I should know about this _Brienne_? Something going on between the two of you, perhaps?”

“We’re friends,” Jaime snaps, rubbing at the space between his eyes. “I don’t know what in the seven hells you’re implying, but…”

“Oh, Jaime.” Tyrion laughs, and he can fairly see his brother shaking his head. “Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. You have no idea, do you? Or did you not hear the way you said her name?”

“I really do have to go,” he says, ignoring his brother’s words. “Call me later, though. It was good to talk to you again.”

There’s another burst of noise on the other end of the line, drowning out whatever Tyrion says before he hangs up and leaves Jaime standing there, his phone in his hand, still pressed to his ear before he sighs and tucks it away again.

Talking to his brother has become much more difficult since Tyrion had phoned him that evening four years ago, nearly incoherent with drunkenness, since he’d woken the next morning to the news that his little brother was suspected in two different murder cases and had vanished from Westeros entirely, since Tyrion had called him again three months later and barely acknowledged his worried inquiries of _where are you, what happened, did you really kill them._ Jaime had always tried to ignore the cruel things his brother could say beforehand, but after that…

Brienne’s hand on his shoulder, warm and firm and gentle all at once, jolts him out of his thoughts before he can spiral too deep into concern again. “If you need another minute or two, I can tell Oberyn,” she says quietly, and he smiles at her before shaking his head.

“No, I’m good to go,” he replies, following her back into the theatre proper. Oberyn’s standing on the floor near the corner of the stage, talking to Doran, and the brothers are distracted enough that Jaime and Brienne are able to linger in the house, watching as Ellaria coaches the ensemble through part of the opening number. 

“Who were you talking to out there?” Brienne asks after a moment, turning her head to look at him. 

“My brother,” he says in a low voice, not quite meeting her gaze. “He was...well, he was himself. As per usual.”

“Isn’t he also a wanted criminal?”

“Yeah, but he won’t tell me where he is if I ask, and he’s clever enough that his phone was already untrackable when he fled. Believe me, they tried getting me to call him so they could track him down, and it didn’t work out. He knows I’d report him, if I ever found out, even though it’d kill me to do so.”

She frowns, confusion swimming in her brilliant blue eyes. “You’d turn him in? Your own brother? I thought Lannisters had the _family loyalty_ schtick beaten into them from childhood.”

“We do,” he mutters, remembering his father sitting him down and telling him _we will always come first, your family is more important to you than anything else in your life._ “But...well, when your little brother’s suspected in two murders…”

“Do you think he did it?” Brienne asks, keeping her voice quiet as she leans a little closer. “The Baratheons certainly seem to think so.”

Jaime pauses, measuring his next words very carefully. “I don’t know if he had anything to do with Joffrey Baratheon’s death. The kid had a lot of enemies, and a lot of those enemies had very deep pockets. But Shae Waters...Tyrion’s the only person who could have done it, and he did say something, a little before it all went down. I don’t know for certain, but…”

“You suspect,” she finishes, and he nods, his throat tightening. 

“I hate the whole thing. I hate that I know exactly why he might have done it, and I hate that I’m never going to know if he really...because he won’t ever let himself get caught. And I hate that it opened my eyes to him, let me see him in a whole new light. Before, he was just my little brother, who I tried my best to protect from our father’s hatred and the world’s cruelties. But he never would’ve tried to protect me, if I’d admitted I was bi, or when I decided to walk away. And he barely ever calls, and he doesn’t care about what I’m doing anymore. He didn’t even know I was doing this show.”

Brienne opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Oberyn calls Jaime over. She touches his arm right before he goes, however, and for a moment their eyes lock, keeping them both in place for a long moment.

Oberyn calls his name again, and he tears himself away, only realizing once he’s joined Oberyn and Doran by the edge of the stage that he’d been up there with Brienne for several minutes. The director looks more amused by Jaime’s flushed face and mumbled apology than annoyed, but that fades quickly when he glances over at his brother before pulling his phone out and pressing it into Jaime’s hands.

“Is this true?” he asks, a shadow crossing into his dark eyes. “I don’t believe it is, but I need to know for certain.”

Jaime scans through the news article, his eyes widening as he reads his father’s words, the words _return to the Lannister Organization_ , over and over and over until they’re burned into the forefront of his mind. He’s seen similar phrases before, in the article he’d read a month ago and a half-dozen others before it, but he’d thought—hoped—that they were the stuff of bored gossip sites only, that it was just another rumour Petyr Baelish had come up with to make money. “No,” he whispers, handing Oberyn’s phone back and lowering his gaze to his feet. “It’s not true.”

“Good,” Doran says, his expression serious. “Then it means your father is lying. Although why he’d lie about this, I’m not quite sure.”

“He’s desperate,” Oberyn says, but he doesn’t smile like Jaime expects him to. “The situation with Mormont, and then the backlash to Connington being cast, it’s put him in a bad situation with audiences. He’s trying to win them over with better press, and he thinks Jaime’s return is the better press he needs to share.”

Jaime laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Well, then he’s going about this all wrong, because half the industry hates me, and spending two years away from the stage hasn’t exactly endeared me to fans.”

Doran frowns at him, the disappointed hint in his expression reminding Jaime of his father for a moment before the producer speaks. “You’re more popular than you think, Jaime. I thought you’d know that, since you seem the sort who’d read what people say about them.”

“Not anymore,” he mutters. That kind of thing had fed into his worst behaviour in the past, and he’d really rather not go back to that time, even in his most innocuous actions. 

Oberyn nods, looking down at the article on his phone before turning it off and tucking it away. “What are you going to do about this?”

“Do I need to do anything? Won’t people eventually figure out that he’s lying whether or not I say something?”

“Maybe if this was the only article your father had done, I’d say yes,” Doran says quietly. “But there’s more than one, and he’s dropped hints in several other interviews as well. You can’t keep quiet about this forever. _Moulin Rouge!_ opening with you still a part of the cast will help quell the rumours, but people _are_ going to ask you about this sooner or later, and if you stay silent you might as well be giving your father free rein to claim whatever he wants.”

Jaime nods, blinking rapidly. “Can’t I just say something like _the rumours are false, I won’t be returning to my family’s company_? Will that be enough?”

“I don’t know,” Oberyn admits with a helpless shrug. “Your father’s desperate, and desperate people can do terrible things if driven to a certain point. That might be enough to make him stop, or he might start saying we forced you to put that statement out. It’d probably be better to make a larger statement, something he can’t dispute, although I have no idea what that might look like.”

“You don’t have to do anything right away,” Doran adds, placing a reassuring hand on Jaime’s arm. “Tywin’s articles still aren’t getting a lot of circulation right now, and most of what I’ve seen is disbelief in response. But he’s already got Raven News speculating, and if he keeps pushing, and he manages to make Varys say something...then you should have a plan, just in case.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jaime murmurs, staring at his shoes. Even when tied up in the knots of Daenerys Targaryen’s careful planning, his father’s reach is long enough to disrupt his life, to tell him yet again he’ll never truly be able to escape.

Gerold Dayne had said something similar when he’d told Jaime he could never escape the weight of the Lannister name. Jaime really had thought walking away was enough, that he’d be disowned and forgotten and that would be the end of it. But perhaps this is his punishment for not doing _more,_ for not taking a deliberate stand against his family even though he knows enough of their secrets to be able to do so. If he’d done something, if he’d spoken out years ago, would they be dealing with this situation right now?

“It’ll work out,” Oberyn tells him with a smile that Jaime does his best to return, although he doubts it’s convincing. “Don’t worry too much about it. Worry about the fact that our first preview’s in two days instead.”

“Oh gods, don’t remind me,” Jaime groans, and they all laugh, the mood lightening instantly. “How do things look, sales-wise?”

“Good!” Doran replies, rubbing his hands together. “All our previews are sold out already, and there’s a very limited selection of tickets left for the two months after opening. If we get good enough reviews and ticket sales remain steady, we might be able to recoup within our first year.”

Jaime arches an eyebrow. “That’s impressive, considering this is a high-budget show.”

“Well,” Oberyn says with a broad grin, nudging Jaime with his shoulder, “we’ve been pretty lucky to snatch up you and Brienne as leads. People are excited to see what you two are gonna do, and, quite frankly, I’m excited for them to see it. The two of you have been phenomenal so far.”

“We do our best.”

Oberyn shakes his head, a wry smile twisting his lips. “You sell yourself short, Jaime. Both of you have done incredible work, and it’s been a pleasure to direct you thus far. Be proud of how much you’ve achieved here.”

Jaime nods slowly, but says nothing. It’s hard to believe that when the doubtful voice is still ringing loud in his ear, listing his numerous failures and mocking the few moments of hope he’s been able to dredge up. His comeback may be impressive to many, but he still hasn’t properly spoken against his family, and he can’t pretend he’s done anything good while he sits by and lets his father say and do these things. The articles have been enough to convince at least one person he’s planning to go back. If he keeps letting this slide, how many more will follow down that path?

At the same time, though, he _doesn’t_ want to say anything. He wants to leave his family in the past, wants to move on and finally shape his own story instead of letting the spectre of Aerys Targaryen or the Lannister press machine shape it for him. He’s tired of hearing his father blather on about the supposed Lannister superiority, tired of listening to Tyrion defend his shitty actions with flimsy excuses he knows Jaime’ll forgive because _he always does_ , tired of having his identity invalidated over and over by the people who’re supposed to care about him most.

And yet, _and yet…_

It’s a vicious cycle, wanting to leave and needing to speak, and eventually he’ll have to do _something_ and all this endless fretting will have been for naught. Tywin Lannister isn’t the sort to give in easily, and Jaime may be one of the only people who knows his father well enough to speak up against him.

 _I’ve done this before_ , he thinks, remembering Aerys, sitting shaking in front of a reporter as he told a story long kept hidden. _It shouldn’t be this hard to do it again_.

But this isn’t the same, because this is his _father_ , and he’s spent the last two years ignoring every call, hoping that’d be enough, that he could escape the weight of all the expectations and assumptions and attempts to shape him into the very person he’d hoped to avoid becoming. He can’t say speaking out against Aerys was _easy,_ but at least it didn’t involve his family, didn’t involve potentially hurting people he loves because he needs to protect everyone else from what they might do.

Doran may be right, and he may not have to do anything right away—or at all, if everything goes well. But the more his father digs his heels in, the more likely it is he’ll be called upon to speak, or realize he can’t avoid doing so any longer.

And when he finally is driven to act, he’ll have to be prepared for it, so that no one will be able to blindside him with something like this again.

***

 **Tyrion Lannister Flees Westeros After Warrant Issued**  
Denys Harte The King’s Landing Sun  
June 6th, 2015

Tyrion Lannister, son of theatre titan Tywin Lannister, has reportedly fled Westeros after a warrant was issued for his arrest yesterday. The younger son of the infamous producer is wanted on two counts of homicide, being a prime suspect in the murder of young actor Joffrey Baratheon and the sole suspect in the murder of prostitue Shae Waters.

Baratheon’s cousins Stannis and Renly Baratheon have both stated that they believe their cousin’s murder was deserved, considering his penchant for cruelty and violence. Neither man condoned Lannister’s actions, but said they could ‘understand why the murder happened, provided Tyrion really did kill our cousin.’ The third brother, Robert Baratheon, has yet to comment on the matter beyond his presumably-drunken initial tweet, which stated, “that little shit [Joffrey Baratheon] is dead? Good riddance.” The tweet has since been removed after considerable criticism, given that Joffrey Baratheon was the only son of the brothers’ uncle, Ronnal Baratheon. 

Lannister’s father also has yet to make a statement on the matter, but his brother, actor Jaime Lannister, has said that he firmly believes his brother was responsible for at least one of the deaths, and that he played no role in his flight from Westeros in order to escape justice. KLPD chief Jacelyn Bywater agreed, saying, “Mr. Jaime Lannister has been questioned in regards to his brother’s actions, and we have concluded he was not a part of either the murders or his brother’s flight.”

The investigation will continue despite the flight of the prime suspect, but it is unlikely the two victims will face justice as no trial can proceed without Lannister’s presence. Anyone who might have information as to Tyrion Lannister’s whereabouts is asked to call KLPD at 683-2147 or contact their local authorities.

***

Brienne’s become so accustomed to Jaime joining her for lunch that she feels oddly adrift when Addam drags him away, citing a desire to see more of his friend before the show opens and there’s no time to spare for leisurely meals. Lunch with Jaime’s a constant of her day, as much as Arys bringing the morning coffee and Pia helping her change into costume for rehearsals are. 

She briefly considers accepting the invitation Arianne and Margaery extend to her, but they’re planning on heading six blocks over to check out a new cafe, and she knows she’s needed too soon after lunch ends to be willing to risk walking that far away from the theatre. Asha and Obara are being held back so Oberyn can give them a few notes about some characterization tidbits, so Brienne’s alone when she sets out for the sandwich place on the corner.

It’s been an age since she didn’t take her lunch with Jaime or Arianne or any of their other castmates, and she’s missed the solitude even though she loves being able to spend the walk and the meal chatting about nothing and everything all at once. With their first preview looming on the horizon, rehearsals have consumed almost every part of her life, and a solitary walk for lunch is the first escape from discussion of the show she’s had for almost a month.

Or at least, it is until Hyle Hunt races up from behind her, panting a little when he catches up and is able to walk beside her. “Brienne,” he says with a nod, his tone surprisingly reserved compared to his previous too-cheerful greetings, and it’s this alone that keeps her from snapping at him to leave before he can say anything else. 

“Do you want something, Hyle?” she asks, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead. “I thought you were gonna take lunch with Theon again.”

“I was,” he admits, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but I needed to talk to you first.”

 _Did you really, or did Theon finally clue you in to what an ass you’ve been?_ She bites her tongue, though, determined to give him the benefit of the doubt—her instincts are all screaming at her to ignore him, but Jaime had proved them wrong once before. There’s little reason to believe Hyle will be any different than Jaime in this matter—besides the fact that he’s already told her he doesn’t remember the bet and everything surrounding it the same way she does or simply doesn’t care enough about it to apologize.

“Go on, then,” she mutters, ducking into the sandwich shop while he trails after her, attempting to pull a kicked-puppy look but coming up short. “Talk.”

Hyle takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, then closes it again. His eyes lock on the menu and he doesn’t so much as look in her direction when he mumbles, “I owe you an apology.”

He’s _definitely_ been getting advice from Theon, because she doubts Hyle has ever apologized for anything in his life before. He’s not truly malicious, not like Ron Connington or some of the other guys from _Cry-Baby_ , but he has a tendency to assume the world revolves around him and that he can do no wrong because of that fact. It’s highly unlikely he’d come to the conclusion that he needs to apologize to her on his own, unless she’s been giving him far less credit than he deserves all along. And she highly doubts that’s the case.

“I...I treated you very badly before,” he says, his rigid, flat tone making it sound like he’s reading from a script. His gaze doesn’t waver from the menu, and Brienne finds herself holding back an _extremely_ snide comment about how unbelievable this ‘apology’ of his is turning out to be already. “I didn’t realize how much my actions hurt you at the time, and I deeply regret it now that I’ve learned the truth. I hope...I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me, although I can understand if you are unable to.”

It’s her turn to avoid his gaze while she tries her best to stifle her laughter. She’s never heard a worse apology in her _life_. Even Ron’s _I’ve changed, I swear it_ speech from all those years back had been more genuine—although he’d had incentive to make his words seem believable. 

Hyle’s starting to look affronted by her lack of response, though she’s not sure what he was expecting. Theon may have given him the words to say—they’re good words, too, she should congratulate Theon on them later—but they lack the sentiment that Jaime had expressed in his apology back at the third reading. She doesn’t think Hyle’s a half-bad actor when he wants to be, but it’s so _painfully_ obvious that he doesn’t understand why Theon told him to do this, and she has no idea how she’s supposed to take him seriously after what she just heard.

“Is that all?” she finally asks, turning to look at Hyle and raising an eyebrow. She tries to go for a coolly amused expression, though she has her doubts about how well she’s pulling it off.

He frowns, tearing his gaze away from the menu to give her a quick once-over. “What else do you want me to say? I’ve apologized, shouldn’t that be enough?”

The old woman standing in front of them in line is shaking her head very slowly, and if Brienne wasn’t trying very hard to maintain a cool expression she’d burst into laughter at the sight. “Well, it would help if you meant your apology instead of rattling off words Theon fed to you. And if you directly acknowledged what you did to hurt me instead of dancing around it so you can keep pretending you weren’t in the wrong.”

In his only smart move so far, Hyle doesn’t say _but I did mean it_ , though she can practically see him swallow the words. “It was supposed to be a joke,” he mutters instead, kicking idly at the floor. “I dunno why you didn’t see it that way.”

Her amusement abruptly evaporates, her blood turning ice cold as she whirls on him. “Are you fucking kidding me right now, Hyle?”

The old woman’s cackling behind her while Hyle throws up his hands, cowering underneath the force of her anger. “Calm down, Brienne! I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to say it like that!”

“Tell me that after you’ve been used as a source of entertainment because a bunch of people thought it was _funny_ to humiliate you and tell you no one would ever seriously want to kiss you,” she snarls at him, drawing herself up to her full height. “Tell me that after you’ve been laughed out of a theatre by the same people who pretended to be your friends and mocked you behind your back, all so they could make some money and have a few laughs at your expense. If you still don’t get it, _then_ you can say that shit to me.”

He has nothing to say to that, and she draws in a deep breath, determined to avoid punching him no matter how tempting the thought may be. Theon may have done his best, but even he can’t keep Hyle from throwing the act away when it doesn’t go quite the way he wanted it to. 

“Go crawling back to Theon,” she says quietly, her anger fading almost as quickly as it arrived, leaving her drained and empty and shaking. “Unless you’re coming back with a proper apology, I don’t want to see you outside of rehearsals again.”

“You heard her, sonny,” the old woman adds when he hesitates. “Move along before she beats you up. Even though I’d like to see that play out.”

At last, Hyle nods and slinks out, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. Brienne sighs heavily and retakes her position in line, all her earlier contentment drained away by her encounter with Hyle. A part of her really had hoped he’d seen reason, or that Theon had told him something to spark a change in his behaviour. It’s another disappointment, seeing him remain stuck in the same cycle as Ron Connington and Tywin Lannister and so many others, always defending his actions without ever considering the possibility he might be wrong.

“Don’t concern yourself too much with him, dear,” the old woman says to her, shuffling closer to place a hand on Brienne’s arm. “He’s too obsessed with his own ego to be worth it.”

Brienne nods shallowly, blinking rapidly as tears well in her eyes. “I know. I just wished…”

“No need to be ashamed of wishing. We all do it, and we’ve all had our hopes crushed once or a thousand times. You’ll never win every battle, dear, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

She wipes at her eyes, tentatively smiling at the old woman, who offers a warm grin in return. “There we go. Don’t let this one disappointment keep you from chasing your dreams. Maybe the lad’ll see sense sooner or later—although I have my doubts about that one. There’ll always be a better thing coming, maybe even one to make you forget a man who can’t figure out when to give in.”

“Does doing my first Visway show count as a better thing?”

The old woman gasps delightedly, her eyes widening and a broad smile bursting across her face. “Well! I’d say yes, absolutely! That’s wonderful for you, simply wonderful. I’ll have to come see it. What are you in?”

“I’m doing _Moulin Rouge!_ ,” she tells the old woman, who nods, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh, yes, I heard about that one. Was hoping to get a chance to see it once it opens. You must be Brienne Tarth, then. I knew your father once, a few years back. Not the wisest or most self-aware of men, but he was charming. You tell him Nan says hello for me, will you?”

“I will,” Brienne promises, grinning at Nan as they move up to be next in line. “Let me buy your sandwich for you, though, since you’ve been so lovely today.”

Nan pats her on the arm, offering another fond smile. “Thank you, dear. I hope your show does well, you deserve it. And I’m sure you’ll be wonderful enough to make certain it does.”

Those words linger in her head on her way back to the theatre, when Jaime greets her with a hug and an exclamation of _your grace_ while she and Addam roll their eyes, when Oberyn drags them onstage to rehearse some more, when she’s chatting with Pia in her dressing room while changing costumes. She’s spent so much time inside the rehearsal bubble that it’s odd to hear a voice from outside the cast reassuring her, telling her she’s earned this potential success, the acclaim everyone’s sure is coming. 

The remembrance of Nan’s kind smile and eager words are enough to buoy her through the rest of the day, and for the first time since Oberyn had told them they’d be moving rehearsals onto the stage, she walks out at the end of the day certain they’ve done well, the fear and doubt that’ve been following her since her first audition finally retreating for a single evening and leaving her hopeful that maybe, just maybe, things’ll work out for her and the show in the end.

***

 **Hyle Hunt @hylehunt**  
Ugh so disappointing to see women reject genuinely nice men because they’re waiting for the hot asshole to notice them and inevitably break their heart

 **no one @neeeeeeedle**  
 ** __** _Replying to @hylehunt_  
chillax buddy if you got dumped it’s bc you showed your ass and proved YOU were the asshole not whoever she ditched you for

 **Hyle Hunt @hylehunt**  
 ** __** _Replying to @neeeeeeedle_  
I didn’t say i got dumped, i just saw a woman turn down a sincere offer in favour of panting after her hot coworker who treats everyone like shit

 **no one @neeeeeeedle**  
 ** __** _Replying to @hylehunt_  
oh SURE, it DEFINITELY wasn’t bc you’re feeling sad about getting rejected. how do you even know the coworker’s an asshole, anyways? maybe he’s just rude to you bc you deserve it?

 **Hyle Hunt @hylehunt**  
 ** __** _Replying to @neeeeeeedle_  
No one asked you you little piece of shit

 **no one @neeeeeeedle**  
 ** __** _Replying to @hylehunt_  
lmao you SURE you’re not the asshole here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know he only comes up briefly in this, but it's worth mentioning that joffrey is _not_ cersei and robert's kid in this universe. they got together less than ten years ago so it doesn't really make sense for joffrey to be their kid, and i don't think they had _any_ kids together in this universe. if you're curious, joffrey is the son of an uncle (who doesn't exist in canon, i pulled his name from a historical baratheon) to robert, stannis, and renly.
> 
> we have not seen the last of Nan, though she won't show up again for a while. i really love the concept of brienne finding acceptance from all the women around her, especially from older women who could act as the mother or grandmother figures she's been deprived of her whole life. so Nan will be showing up again at some point, although i can't guarantee when. 
> 
> a lot of jaime's spiralling about everything to do with his father is completely valid, although i will say this: the only thing he _should_ feel any obligation to do is publicly break ties with his father and the rest of the company. he doesn't have to be the one to take a stand against his father and expose him, not when he had to spend so much time enduring the various forms his father's abuse took. jaime isn't thinking that way at all right now (he has too much guilt over the whole thing), but if you're a victim of an abusive situation you are in no way obligated to single-handedly take down everything and everyone responsible for that abuse. jaime's way of thinking here is understandable, but it's not healthy either.
> 
> next time: jaime comes to a realization, brienne has an unexpected visitor, and the production plays its first preview on Visway.


	11. First Preview/Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The atmosphere backstage before the show’s first preview on Visway is electric.
> 
> Jaime swears the air is sparking with nervous energy as he hurries up to his dressing room after a quick debriefing with Ellaria about the Sparkling Diamond choreography. The ensemble members are all gathering in clumps in the hallways, chattering animatedly at some intervals and staring around with wild-eyed terror at others. As he passes Margaery’s half-open door, he sees her pacing back and forth while muttering lines under her breath, and across the hall Arianne is meditating with such determination on her face that he decides to refrain from bothering her before shows from now on. Even he, despite all his years of experience on the stage, can’t help but feel the same tension as everyone else. For better or worse, this is his comeback, and if he performs badly tonight, then he’ll never be considered good enough for Visway again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god it's happening i'm finally putting them onstage in front of an audience!! i am probably the most excited person about all this, which probably says a lot about how much i miss theatre at this point. also that i'm definitely overinvested in this fic, but since i'm the one writing it I think that's allowed.
> 
> nothing in terms of warnings for this one except that this _is_ a pretty long chapter. the last few have been on the shorter side (relatively so, at least), and this one is...a little bit under 10k. for good reason, but still. also this chapter made me very emotional multiple times because _my children are starting to perform for real i'm so proud of them_. 
> 
> like i said: i am probably the person most invested in this fic at this point. didn't expect THAT to happen when i came up with the idea back in...august?
> 
> once again, thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this! i genuinely believe this fic would not be nearly as good without her help! also you can come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat) if you're so inclined!
> 
> thank you for reading, and enjoy!

_They are all counting on me to succeed  
I am the one who made it out  
The one who always made the grade  
But maybe I should have just stayed home…  
-Breathe, In The Heights_

**CAST**

**__** _(in order of appearance)_

Nyles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Addam Marbrand  
Crispian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Gendry Waters  
Allar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Arys Oakheart  
Bernarr. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Quentyn Martell  
Valena Yronwood. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Arianne Martell  
The Duchess of Highgarden. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Margaery Tyrell  
Cyrenna. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Brienne Tarth  
Tyanna Haratis. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Obara Sand  
Esgred the Ironborn. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Asha Greyjoy  
Sebaston. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Jaime Lannister  
Ensemble. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Andrey Dalt, Gerold Dayne, Falia Flowers, Jennelyn Fowler, Jeyne Fowler, Roslin Frey, Missandei Grey, Theon Greyjoy, Hyle Hunt, Podrick Payne, Daemon Sand, Sarella Sand, Tyene Sand, Sylva Santagar, Eddison Tollett, Casella Vaith, Ygritte Wilde

**STANDBYS and UNDERSTUDIES**

Understudy for Cyrenna/Duchess: Sarella Sand, Ygritte Wilde; Sebaston: Hyle Hunt, Gerold Dayne; Tyanna/Esgred: Tyene Sand, Sylva Santagar; Nyles/Crispian/Allar/Bernarr: Theon Greyjoy, Podrick Payne; Standby for Cyrenna: Jeyne Westerling; Standby for Sebaston: Viserys Targaryen

Dance Captain: Tyene Sand

Assistant Dance Captain: Missandei Grey

**SWINGS**

Larra Blackmont, Gilly Craster, Allyria Dayne, Amerei Frey, Harrold Hardyng, Myles Manwoody, Edric Storm, Luthor Tyrell

**MUSICAL NUMBERS**

**__** _Act One_

“Welcome to the Moulin Rouge”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Company  
“Truth Beauty Freedom Love”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Tyanna, Esgred, Cyrenna, Company  
“The Sparkling Diamond”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sebaston and Company  
“Shut Up And Raise Your Glass”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Cyrenna, Sebaston, Tyanna, Esgred, Company  
“Firework”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Sebaston  
“Your Song”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Cyrenna and Sebaston  
“So Exciting! (The Pitch Song)”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cyrenna, Sebaston, Tyanna, Esgred, Valena, Duchess  
“Sympathy For The Duke”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Duchess, Sebaston, Company  
“Nature Boy” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Tyanna and Cyrenna  
“Elephant Love Medley”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Cyrenna, Sebaston, Company

_Act Two:_

“Backstage Romance”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Esgred, Nyles, Company  
“Come What May”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Cyrenna, Sebaston  
“Only Girl In a Material World”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Duchess, Sebaston, Company  
“Chandelier”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Valena, Cryenna, Company  
“El Tango De Roxanne”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Cyrenna and Company  
“Crazy Rolling”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cyrenna, Sebaston, Company  
“Your Song Reprise”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Sebaston, Cyrenna, Company  
“Come What May (Finale)”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cyrenna and Company

***

The atmosphere backstage before the show’s first preview on Visway is electric.

Jaime swears the air is sparking with nervous energy as he hurries up to his dressing room after a quick debriefing with Ellaria about the Sparkling Diamond choreography. The ensemble members are all gathering in clumps in the hallways, chattering animatedly at some intervals and staring around with wild-eyed terror at others. As he passes Margaery’s half-open door, he sees her pacing back and forth while muttering lines under her breath, and across the hall Arianne is meditating with such determination on her face that he decides to refrain from bothering her before shows from now on. Even he, despite all his years of experience on the stage, can’t help but feel the same tension as everyone else. For better or worse, this is his comeback, and if he performs badly tonight, then he’ll never be considered good enough for Visway again.

There’s still half an hour before they’ll get called on stage for a last-minute mic check and a run-through of any information Oberyn has yet to fling at them, and Jaime has extra time to get ready by virtue of not appearing in the first two numbers, but he’s eager to seize as many moments to himself as he can anyways—or he is until Asha steps in his path with a deep frown on her face. 

“You need to go talk to Brienne,” she tells him in a voice that bodes no questioning. “The poor girl’s freaking out, and I did my best to help her calm down but I’m not the person she needs to talk to right now.”

Before he can ask anything further, she’s gone in a swirl of dark fabric, stomping off to either go pester Obara or her brother, downstairs with the rest of the ensemble. Which means he’s left with no choice but to poke his head into Brienne’s dressing room and check on her, because what kind of costar would he be if he didn’t?

Brienne glances up as he appears in the doorway, eyes wide and watery and so impossibly blue when framed by the dark circles brought on by Ellaria’s constant drilling of the past few days. She’s sitting at her vanity, fiddling with the cord of her microphone despite the warnings Pia must have left her with, her fingers twisting it in wide loops over and over, and he spends a full ten seconds watching the motion of her hands before he shakes himself out of whatever stupor it’s brought upon him.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping in when she doesn’t immediately speak. “Everything alright?”

“Yes—no—I don’t know,” she mumbles, stumbling over her words and running a hand through her hair. “I keep thinking I’m not prepared for this, that I’m going to bring the rest of the cast down, that I’m going to be the one who messes it up for everyone else and that we’ll close before opening night and it’ll be my fault and everyone’s going to hate me—”

“Whoa, slow down,” he interrupts, hurrying over to seize her by the shoulders. “Trust me, it’s not going to be like that. You’re a good actress, Brienne, and you’ve worked so hard that there’s no way you could screw it up that badly. It’s just nerves telling you this, and that’s okay! This is your first time on Visway, and the first preview is _always_ terrifying, no matter how much experience you have.”

She squints dubiously up at him. “You don’t seem nervous at all, though.”

“Well, I _am_ an actor,” he says dryly, and she smiles slightly before her expression drops again. “Believe me, I’m fucking terrified! This is my only chance to return to the stage. If I perform at even a slightly subpar level tonight, people will say I’m off my game and that I should have retired instead of trying to make a comeback. But if I let myself focus on it, I’ll end up overwhelmed, and that’s only going to hurt my performance. If you let your nerves get the better of you, then you _will_ do as badly as you’re predicting right now.”

“What if I _do_ mess up?” she asks him with a beseeching look. “What if I flub a line, or do the wrong move at the wrong time, or miss a cue? How do I come back from that?”

“Own it,” he says, citing the advice Arthur Dayne gave him back when he was trying to return to the theatre after Aerys and holding on to every word of wisdom he could get. “If you miss a cue, make it into your character hurrying to get somewhere because they’re late, or pretend your character stumbled over their words if you miss a line. Whatever you do, no one will care if you don’t make a big deal out of it. And besides, nothing will be quite as memorably awful as Robert Baratheon coming onstage drunk and vomiting on the audience during his opening monologue. Unless you’re planning to do the same, in which case I have no advice that could possibly save you.”

She laughs, wiping at her eyes before smiling warmer and broader than before. “I’m not drunk, so I think I’m doing alright there.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he says with exaggerated relief, pretending to collapse onto the couch while she laughs at him. “Oberyn will be so relieved. He was worried you were a Robert clone, since you’re both from the Stormlands and behave _so_ similarly.”

She keeps laughing, which is much better than freaking out, so he decides to continue. “And anyways, the funniest theatre stories are from shows where people messed up. People _still_ share the story of the time in _Wicked_ where I tripped trying to go down some stairs during Thank Goodness and just fell flat on my face. I was fine, but the ego really doesn’t recover from that sort of thing.”

“I _heard_ about that,” Brienne crows, looking delighted. “I totally thought you deserved it at the time, but it’s also a ridiculously funny story. I imagine the audience loved it.”

“They loved it a little _too_ much,” he grumbles, but his heart is floating lightly in his chest. It really is a funny story, now that there’s a decade between the event and now, and at least no one was seriously hurt or offended—which is more than Robert Baratheon can say with his throwing-up-on-audience story. “But see, you’ll be fine. Ellaria taught you well, so you won’t trip over your feet the way I did, and we’re all well aware you’re definitely _not_ like Robert Baratheon. No mistake you make could possibly equal those sorts of fuck ups.”

She nods, drawing in a deep breath, before rubbing her eyes one last time and straightening her shoulders. “Thank you,” she tells him firmly, grinning in his direction as he slowly turns towards the door. “I needed that.”

“If you ever need me, I’m right next door,” he tells her, stepping out of the room but turning back at the last minute. “You can do this, Brienne. Everyone in this theatre knows you’re more than capable of pulling this show off.”

The smile she offers him in return is brilliant enough to leave him breathless from the sheer joy within it, and he finds himself placing an unsteady hand against the doorframe for support. “I’ll do my best to remember that,” she replies, and he’s relieved to see that some of the anxiousness has faded from her eyes. “Good luck tonight, Jaime. I doubt you’ll need it, though.”

“Same to you,” he calls back, before darting into his own dressing room, unable to help the broad smile spreading across his face. He won’t have the time he wanted to settle his own nerves before mic check, but it also wouldn’t do for one of the two leads to be too worked up to perform at her best level. He has enough time to get into costume before he has to go on that it’s not that big of an issue.

Anders, waiting for him with a furrowed brow, shakes his head with moderate annoyance when Jaime explains the delay to him in hasty words, but hurries to get his mic set up without further discussion of the matter. It’s not long before Jaime’s dashing back downstairs to join the rest of the cast, still scrambling to tuck his mic pack into a pocket.

Arianne frowns at him as he skids into place beside her, gesturing at the clock with a sharp jerk of her head, but Asha gives him a thumbs up from across the room, and he sees Brienne chatting animatedly with Obara, which means his efforts paid off and the delay was absolutely worth his lateness. Besides, he’s not nearly as late as Hyle Hunt, who _does_ have to be onstage in the first number and slinks in a couple minutes after he does, right as Oberyn begins to direct people onstage for a last mic check and some final instructions. 

Addam and Quentyn go on first, jokingly or not-so-jokingly flirting back and forth until Jon Connington signals them to begin singing. They break into an excerpt from the opening number until Connington gives them a nod, at which point they burst into laughter and have to be hustled off stage by an exasperated Areo Hotah.

Gendry and Arys follow them, this time with part of Backstage Romance, and Margaery bounds onstage not long after to sing most of Sympathy For The Duke while Connington fiddles with her mic before finally giving her the okay. Obara and Asha trade verses from Truth Beauty Freedom Love while their volumes are balanced out, and Arianne sings most of the Chandelier opening until her speaking and singing volumes are almost equal.

“Can you do some of Firework?” Connington asks Jaime when it’s finally his turn to step onto the stage. “We get the most range out of you in that song, and I want to make sure your volume is good for all your notes, not just your standard range.”

He nods and does as he’s told, making it up to the second verse before Connington gives him a thumbs-up and he shifts aside so Brienne can take her place in centre stage. She’s shuffling her feet nervously against the ground, until she glances over in his direction and he nods encouragingly, right up until she opens her mouth and breaks out into El Tango De Roxanne.

He’s heard Brienne sing before, of course. They’ve been rehearsing this show for three months now; it would be weird if he _hadn’t_ at this point. But he’s always been busy, or distracted, or singing along with her, and he hasn’t heard her _really_ sing by herself until now. 

He already knows she’s talented, has ample proof of that fact by now. Only in this instant, though, is it clear just _how_ talented she is, her voice echoing in the silent theatre without any music or other voices obstructing it, clear and high and devastatingly powerful. The growl of her first _Roxanne_ rips through him, striking straight at the heart of his love for performance and his love for _remarkable_ performance, like the one he’s seeing play out right now. How can anyone with _this_ voice doubt their ability to perform? How can she possibly think she’s going to fail, when her talent is _this_ extraordinary?

How is he going to get himself under control if he has to listen to _this_ every night?

And, very suddenly, his strange reaction to seeing her in costume for the first time makes sense. He wants to kiss her, he realizes. Maybe more than that. Maybe even go out with her, hold her hand as they walk through the park together. Whatever feelings he has for her— _it’s only a crush,_ he tells himself sternly, _don’t go around calling it something it isn’t_ —aren’t as simple as mere friendship, or even pure lust. No, it’s worse than that: he cares for her, truly, deeply, and even though whatever this is will pass soon enough, it has the very real potential to change everything between them.

It’s such a simple realization that he can’t believe he hasn’t thought of it before, and yet he’s shocked, unable to accept that he’s once again gone recklessly plunging into feeling more than he should for a friend. And he’s not supposed to be thinking of those things right now, only an hour or so out from their first preview on Visway, but he can’t _stop_ , even as Connington nods and she steps aside, even as Oberyn calls everyone back together to give them a few last minute instructions before the doors open and the final preparations for the show begin.

“Pay attention, you fool,” Addam mutters in his ear as he walks by. “I know you’re insanely horny for Brienne right now, but Oberyn’s actually got important things to say, and as one of the leads you really should be focusing on that rather than on how attractive you find your co-star.”

He raises his middle finger in Addam’s direction, which only results in his friend shaking his head as he goes to stand between Quentyn and Gendry. But Addam’s words do pull him out of whatever stupor Brienne’s voice left him in, and he’s able to pay attention to Oberyn without obstruction as he clears his throat and summons everyone’s gazes in his direction.

“Alright, everyone,” Oberyn says, scanning the group of actors and crew standing before him with a critical eye. “This is it, the first preview. Let’s try not to mess up too badly, but don’t push yourselves too hard, either. Take your time, remember what Ellaria’s taught you, and listen to Areo’s instructions. Don’t spend too much time looking at the audience, and let yourself enjoy this, at least a little. I know there’s reviewers in the house tonight, but don’t worry about the early reviews until we can see them for ourselves. Right now, we need to focus on pulling everything together seamlessly. This is a big show, with a lot of moving parts and a lot of people running around, and things are definitely going to go wrong, but we can pull it off. You guys have all worked so hard over the past three months, and I have total faith in each and every one of you. Whatever happens tonight, I want you to know that I’m proud of you, and that nothing you do tonight will let me down. Now get to your places, the doors open in five.” 

They nod and scatter in various directions—the stagehands off to whatever preparations they need to finish up, the cast racing to scramble into costume and do final warm ups or stretches to calm themselves or whatever it is some of his co-stars do. Jaime retreats to his dressing room and lets Anders fuss over him while he rereads some of the trickier lines to memorize and tries not to think too much about the audience filing into the theatre right now, who are going to be watching and judging him in less than half an hour, who are waiting to see his return to the Visway stage so they can decide for themselves how much his talent is really worth.

He wasn’t lying when he’d told Brienne earlier how terrifying this is. Even when he was doing _Once_ before the accident, when he was still brash and confident and uninjured, the first preview had been daunting. It’s the first public judgement, after all, the moment when audiences finally see what they’ve been doing for the last few months and determine whether or not their work has paid off—and the stakes are higher than normal for both him and Brienne. 

There’s no reason for him to go downstairs with everyone else when the five-minute call comes through the speakers backstage, but he’d like to watch at least the first number from the wings, and he wants to make sure Brienne has any last-minute support she might need. She’s talking to Asha and Margaery when he arrives, still clearly tense and nervous, but she’s not panicking, and she sends him a warm smile when he catches her eye, which he returns with a not-insignificant measure of relief. 

Satin had finished a few last-minute adjustments to their costumes that morning, and she somehow looks even better now, her waistcoat snug against her body and her jacket emphasizing the square line of her shoulders. She only has a fraction of the costume changes he does, but Jaime can’t help thinking hers suit her so well there’s no point in switching them out more than necessary. His own _fifteen_ different costumes is more than he’s ever had in his career, and he’s constantly daunted by the thought of how quickly some of those changes are going to have to be.

She darts off to the wings not long after he arrives, her hands flexing at her sides, and he watches her go with what’s probably no small amount of longing in his gaze. He shouldn’t indulge himself like this now that he understands his feelings for her, shouldn’t expose them both to rumours and the idle gossip of their castmates, but he can’t help it. His worry still lingers in the back of his mind, and the fact that she has to begin the show must be weighing heavily on her right now. Hopefully, anyone watching him will chalk his lingering gaze to concern for a friend, and not realize the ill-conceived crush that it truly is.

He’s sure whatever he’s feeling for Brienne will pass. She’s an incredible person, and he’s been blessed by gods he doesn’t really believe in to be able to work with her, but sooner or later she’ll move on to something even bigger, and he knows all too well how difficult it is to maintain _any_ sort of relationship while working on different shows. Even his foolish heart can’t fall deep enough into feelings to forget that much. 

The tension is high as they lurk backstage, waiting for the dancers currently onstage to step into the wings and the preshow to end so the real performance can begin. Addam, Gendry, Quentyn, and Arys have already headed to the wings, preparing for the first number, and much of the ensemble has retreated there as well, but Arianne keeps fiddling with one of the buttons on the cuff of her sleeve, and Obara’s pacing back and forth in the corner of the room, and Asha’s shifting her weight from foot to foot, unable to stay still. Margaery looks serene outwardly, but her fingers tap restlessly against her leg, and when he glances into the darkness of the wings he sees Brienne tugging at the ends of her scarf, unintentionally drawing his attention to the long arch of her neck and suitably distracting him from his own nerves until Arianne comes up and smacks him in the arm. Hard.

“What the fuck was that for?” he hisses at her, trying to keep his voice down as Brienne tenses before stepping out of the wings and the noise of the crowd slowly begins to die down. The show’s about to begin, in less than a minute if his instincts are correct.

“Stop staring,” she hisses right back, taking his arm and fairly dragging him over to the wings to get the best view of the stage. “You look like a creep when you watch her so intently, and besides, if you want to see any of the first number, you should get over here now rather than later.”

“I’m not being creepy,” he mutters, but she shakes her head at him and gestures to the dancers now gliding into the wings in preparation for the opening number, signalling that the time for conversation is later. The lights dim, the crowd goes silent, and there’s that moment, right after the crowd settles but before the music begins, the moment he’s always loved best because of the anticipation, the sound of his heart loud in his ears, his breath the only thing he’s aware of until the echoing beat kicks in and the curtain glides up and the show begins.

Arianne vanishes from his side quickly, needing to get to the back of the stage in order to make her cue on time, but he stays and watches as the four dancers strut downstage, just as Ellaria showed them in rehearsals, while the lights flare and the pit orchestra hits their stride. He continues to watch as they pull back and let Arianne be revealed, as she speaks directly to the audience, welcoming them to the club as if they themselves are a part of the show. When she cues the ensemble’s arrival onstage and the music changes, it’s effortless, smooth, not at all like the frenzied rehearsal that left poor Ellaria near tears when she tried to work the choreography out and it didn’t go half as well as anyone hoped. 

There’s a lot the audience doesn’t see, but it doesn’t matter, because they don’t need to, not when the finished product is so good. When Margaery’s introduction comes and she swans across the walkway with perfect arrogance and smugness, it’s easy to forget that she tripped over her own feet doing the same thing in rehearsals, or that Tyene Sand crashed into Missandei Grey once during this section. They’ve mastered this now, have it down to an art, and there’s no need for the audience to know the messy side of rehearsals when the smooth, polished final show is all they’re looking for.

Brienne, Asha, and Obara bound onstage to a resounding cheer, making their portion of the opening look effortless even though Jaime knows exactly how much effort was poured in to make it look that way. If he wasn’t so worried about being heard in the wings, he’d whoop just as loudly as the audience is when they finally leave the stage and Arianne gathers everything together for the end of the opening number.

“It’s working,” Oberyn says quietly from his position near Jaime, his words calm but his eyes blazing with excitement. “They’re being drawn in, becoming part of the club. This is perfect.”

Perhaps the performance itself isn’t without faults—he’s already seen a few stumbles, and Asha had to scramble to keep up with Brienne and Obara when they were exiting, but no first preview is without fault, and they’re achieving their goal so effectively that it doesn’t matter all that much anyway. The thunderous applause they receive as the final note rings in the air is proof enough that they’ve won the audience over already, and the delighted flush on Brienne’s face as she begins to speak, taking the crowd back in time to Cyrenna’s initial arrival in Pentos is proof that she knows it. Her earlier fear has vanished in the wake of the clear delight they’re receiving thus far.

The lights come up to reveal Asha and Obara bickering about songwriting over a table, and the audience cheers at their appearance, remaining rapt and laughing as the scene progresses. Brienne appears at the top of the steps, singing an homage to _The Sound of Music_ , and Obara prods her into further proving her prowess as a singer. And all the while, the watching crowd soaks it up, laughing and clapping in all the right places, sitting forward with their eyes fixed on the stage as the band starts up with the opening bars of the next tune.

Most of the roles Jaime’s seen Obara in before this have been serious ones, stoic characters facing down the worst of the world with a grim light in their eyes, but her potential as a comedic actress is on full display as she struts across the stage, leaning on her prop cane at some points and brandishing it wildly at others. Her face is alight with joy, and it spills across the stage and into the audience and the wings, until Jaime thinks his heart might burst from all the delight swelling within it. They could end the show here, never telling the rest of the story, and he would be happy, having borne witness to the irrepressible joy of all his fellow actors before he could even set foot on the stage.

He’d love to stay and watch the rest of Truth Beauty Freedom Love, but his entrance from above in the third number isn’t exactly easy to arrange, so he leaves Oberyn behind and hurries up the stairs to get to the rafters above the stage, where the stagehands are waiting for his arrival with tense expressions even though he’s given them more than enough time to prepare. But it’s first preview, and everyone’s tense, so he’ll cut them some slack, especially since they’re smart enough not to hiss at him about being late when he’s not. If he _had_ been late, it would be a whole other matter.

Down below, he hears Brienne singing with Asha and Obara, their voices carrying up to where he waits for his cue as they bring the second number to a close. The crowd responds with another burst of applause, so loud and enthusiastic it’s impossible to mistake it for anything other than delight.

And then Arianne steps forward and repeats her spiel from the end of the opening number, and then it’s his cue as the music shifts from a shimmering undertone into the pure, high notes resonating from the keyboard. The stagehands give him one last nod before he’s descending towards the stage, the lights of the stage blinding him briefly as the spotlight sweeps up to settle on him. The distant, sparkling tones coming from the band hidden below the stage are his only accompaniment as he begins to sing, and for a moment he’s terrified his voice will crack, or his mic won’t work, or he’s missed a cue somehow…

But it works, somehow, impossibly. His first note rings as clearly as it ever did in rehearsals, and the lyrics match up with the music—maybe not perfectly, but as he told himself earlier, no first preview is flawless. He has no way of knowing if his mic is working or not, since he can only hear the music from below and his own voice in his ears, but the audience doesn’t seem to be protesting, and when he spares a brief look over to the wings Oberyn is grinning widely enough that he knows nothing’s gone too terribly wrong.

_Low bar, Lannister_ , he thinks, and then the music picks up speed, and the ensemble sweeps in to take their places behind him, and there’s no more time for thinking, only for the music swirling around him and the lyrics spilling out of his mouth and Ellaria’s steps flowing through his body, smooth and natural and right, and he’s back where he belongs after two years away, and no one, reviewer or audience or even his godsdamned father, can tell him he hasn’t earned this, his second chance after thinking all was lost. 

The end of the number comes far too quickly, and for a moment the terror returns, his heartbeat accelerating in his chest as he sings his final line and sends the ensemble stumbling back with a single gesture. He’s been aware of nothing but his own actions for the entire piece; maybe the audience has been ridiculing him the whole time and he didn’t notice until now? A thousand increasingly improbable scenarios flash through his mind in the moment when his arms drop down to his sides and the final chord plays, until he can barely breathe through the fear and the tension.

And then the audience _roars_ with applause, their cheers filling his ears and flooding his chest with warmth, and he steps down from the table as the playout music kicks in, a stupidly broad grin on his face that he’ll have to wipe off in a moment when the scene reopens. His two years away from the stage seem to have vanished in an instant, lost to the music and the applause and the brilliant lights he fell in love with as a child, so many years ago.

_Gods, it’s good to be home._

***

**Moulin Rouge The Musical @moulinrougebway**  
Come join us tonight at Sunspear Theatre as we begin our first Visway performance! 

**Visway.com @viswaycom**  
Best of luck to the cast of @moulinrougbway as they play their first Visway performance tonight!!

**biggest visway stan @alayne_of_the_vale**  
WHOO guess who gets to see @moulinrougebway ‘s first preview tonight? this lucky bitch!! LITERALLY cannot wait!!

**the phantom of the opera @ishereinsidemymind**  
@moulinrougebway has its first visway performance tonight and i am HYPED for it @alayne_of_the_vale tell us how it is!! the people need to know!!

**Meera reed @reed_mee**  
Wishing the cast of @moulinrougebway a happy first preview!!

**Daenerys Targaryen @motherofdragons**  
Congrats to the entire cast of @moulinrougebway on their first preview tonight! Wishing you the best of luck!!

***

Brienne’s grinning recklessly wide as the cast files offstage after taking their bows, breathless and eager and riding on the high of a show well done. She hadn’t expected the preview to go this well, with her fears leading to her pre-performance panic, but she hadn’t terribly messed up, and the cast had meshed together so well, and aside from a few small stumbles that only they would be able to recognize, no disasters occurred.

Jaime flings his arms around her almost as soon as they’ve cleared the wings, smiling so broad and delighted that her heart stops from the sheer joy on his face. _Gods, and he was already unfairly beautiful before_ …

“You were _amazing,_ ” he gushes, pulling back and grabbing her shoulders and she’s already nearly overwhelmed by the emotions of the show, she can’t deal with Jaime Lannister looking at her with so much fondness and enthusiasm. But she has to, because he just won’t stop _talking_ , even as he steps away to sling an arm around her shoulders. She’s never heard about her own talent so much in her life, though she’s not upset about the compliments, especially not from someone as phenomenally skillful as he is.

In a way, it’s good he isn’t letting her get a word in edgewise, because she doesn’t know what she’d say about his own abilities. _You were so good out there_ doesn’t cut it, not really. It doesn’t encapsulate the power of his voice when he’d pulled the audience under his spell upon his entrance in the third song and never let them go again, doesn’t take in the two years he was away from the stage that seem to have left no impact on his abilities. He’s as talented as he was on _Company_ all those years ago, maybe even more so, because he’s not an asshole this time, and is currently standing next to her telling her how talented she is, how skilled, how he can’t believe no one’s given her opportunities before this because she deserves it more than anyone else he’s ever known…

“Is this guy bothering you?” Addam Marbrand asks in a teasing tone, coming up between them to pull Jaime away, and part of Brienne’s glad because she has room to _think_ again, but another part of her was savouring that contact more than was necessary and is irritated with Addam for separating them. “Because I have a bone to pick with him about the line he messed up out there, and I don’t want him to overinflate your ego too much.”

“She did so well, though,” Jaime mutters sulkily. “You can’t tell me she didn’t, because you’d be _wrong_.”

Addam laughs loudly, dragging Jaime away before his friend can protest any further. “Alright, alright. Brienne, you did great, but Lannister’s not allowed to hog you all evening, so I’m going to take him to meet with his fan club while you deal with your own.”

“I don’t have a fan club,” Brienne says, frowning, but Addam’s already gone, and then there’s a blur of motion in her peripheral vision, which is the only warning she gets before Margaery barrels into her with a shriek of delight.

It’s a minor miracle she doesn’t topple over and manages to steady both Margaery and herself as the other woman laughs a little sheepishly even as her grin is entirely unrepentant. “Sorry about that,” Margaery says with a shrug, “but you were absolutely incredible out there tonight, and I wasn’t sure if Jaime was ever going to release you, so I had to take advantage of the moment while I could.” 

“Thank you?” She doesn’t mean to phrase it as a question, but everything’s happening all at once, and it’s more overwhelming than she thought it would be, in the best way possible. “You were great, too. It almost made me forget how you tripped the first time we rehearsed your entrance in Welcome to the Moulin Rouge.”

“ _Rude_ ,” Margaery says, folding her arms even as she grins. “You and Obara both brought that up already, and it’s been like five minutes since the show ended. I’m never going to be able to forget that, am I?” 

“Oh, _definitely_ not,” a new voice interjects, and Asha throws her arm around Margaery’s shoulders before smiling brightly at Brienne. “But that’ll be overshadowed by the force of our latest rising star, I think. Seriously, if I hadn’t known you were so inexperienced, I’d think you were lying about this being your first Visway show.”

“Definitely not lying,” Brienne says, returning the smile with one of her own. “Thank you. You were amazing, too.”

“ _All_ of you were fantastic,” Arianne says as she comes over with Obara right beside her. “Gods, we sound like a bunch of drunk girls in the bathroom at a party, but it’s really the only acceptable reaction. Uncle Oberyn hasn’t said anything yet, but I already know he’s delighted by how well everything went.”

“Better to be a drunk girl in the bathroom than be miserable because we had a bad performance,” Margaery says delightedly. “Let’s embrace it and keep complimenting each other, because we fucking _nailed_ it tonight, and I don’t think there’s a single person here who’d disagree with me.”

“Absolutely not,” Obara agrees, “and none of you are allowed to argue. Actually, I think we should all share our favourite parts of the show tonight. Maybe we can make it into a tradition. It’ll help keep our spirits up when Webb season comes around, and we’re run off our feet by press and performances and a thousand other obligations.”

“I love the sound of that,” Brienne says, and it seems her position as lead means no one’s willing to disagree with her, because they all nod instantly. “I’ll go first. I loved Margaery’s facial expressions during The Pitch Song. You really played to the back of the theatre with those, even more than you did in rehearsal.”

Margaery ducks her head in what looks like fake bashfulness, but Brienne can see the flush spreading across her cheeks. “You’re too sweet.” 

“I love how you played Sebaston’s death, Brienne,” Obara adds. “I thought I was going to burst into tears onstage because your response made it feel so real. Actually, I’m still a little concerned about Jaime. Are we sure he’s really alive?”

“He’s definitely fine,” Margaery says with a smirk. “More than fine, really. He spent like five minutes harassing poor Brienne earlier.”

“Jaime did really well, from what I saw,” Asha says, looking thoughtful. “You couldn’t tell that he’d been away with the way he performed. And his Sparkling Diamond was so captivating. I love Ashara Dayne, and her performance in the movie is unparalleled, but it takes a skilled actor to do what he did, and damn did he ever nail it.”

“I loved how enthusiastic Obara and Asha were during Shut Up And Raise Your Glass,” Arianne says. “I genuinely felt as confused and annoyed as my character probably did during that moment, because you both played it so well.”

“I love all of you,” Obara says with a fond smile, extending her arms and pulling them all closer. “Seriously, you’re so awesome, and we all did so well tonight, and I know we have to do it all over again tomorrow, but enjoy yourselves tonight. You’ve earned it, and I’m so proud of you all.”

They all exchange smiles for a moment, until Margaery shakes her head with a rueful expression. “We really are embracing our inner drunk girls, aren’t we?”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not enjoying it,” Brienne warns her, pointing a threatening finger without really knowing where the words are coming from. “You enjoy this just as much as the rest of us.”

“The lead has spoken,” Asha announces in a dramatic voice, spreading her arms wide and sending Arianne and Obara into peals of laughter. “We must not dare to question her.” 

They’re so busy laughing that none of them hear Ellaria’s approach until she clears her throat behind Asha and they all jump back before bursting into laughter again. “If you ladies are quite done,” the choreographer tells them with a fond smile, “Oberyn has a few things to say before you go running off to greet your fans.”

Their director is standing in the middle of the room, the exuberant smile still on his face as he looks at each of them in turn. “Congratulations, everyone,” he begins. “You made it through the first preview, and we managed to avoid any major disasters while doing it. I know you’re probably worried about early reviews and what people are saying, but I assure you the audience loved it, and we don’t need to fret about any of that until the reviews actually come out. Enjoy tonight, everyone, because we’ve got another performance tomorrow!”

The crowd laughs before they scatter to go put everything away and change out of costumes. Brienne pauses for a moment, though, letting the others rush past her as she lets her head fall back and stares up at the ceiling. _I made it through the first preview. My first performance on Visway. My childhood dreams are finally coming true._

If Oberyn and a few of her castmates weren’t still lingering nearby, she might have let out a breathless laugh, but she settles for shaking her head. Everything had felt so surreal while she was onstage, as if this were just a dream she never wants to wake up from, but it isn’t. It’s _real_. She’s really here, backstage at Sunspear Theatre after performing for an audience of fourteen hundred people, and is already thinking about doing it all over again tomorrow. No, this isn’t a dream. A dream could never be as incredible as this, as finally getting to experience the real thing.

Jaime pulls up beside Brienne as when she finally starts to head up the stairs to her dressing room, still grinning exuberantly. “You going to stage door first or are you gonna greet whoever wants to meet you on the stage?” he asks, catching her by surprise. “I was thinking of heading out to do the stage door, but if you’re heading out I’ll hang back for a bit. I don’t want to overwhelm the fans by having both leads out at the same time.”

“I honestly didn’t think anyone would want to meet me on the stage,” she admits, flushing furiously. “Isn’t that mainly reserved for the bigger stars, like you or Arianne?”

He shrugs. “Anyone can do it. Arianne and I might get more people at first, but you’re one of the leads. People are going to be just as excited to meet you as they are to meet the more established names in the cast, especially when you gave such a good performance right out of the gate.”

Areo appears out of practically nowhere before Brienne has time to decide, beckoning for her to follow him. “Catelyn Stark wants to speak to you,” he tells her quietly, nodding back towards the stage. “She said she can wait until you’re done with the fans, so you have time, but I wouldn’t linger out there too long tonight. I’m sure you’d rather not keep her waiting.”

Brienne nods, glancing back at Jaime. “I’ll head out and do the stage door, but I probably won’t stay too long,” she says as Areo steps away to intercept Margaery and talk to her about something. “Apparently Catelyn Stark wants to see me when I’m done.”

For some reason, Jaime’s smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes when he glances her way. “In that case, I’ll join you,” he replies, something hollow echoing in his tone. “Someone’s gotta keep the masses occupied once you head off to meet with suitors, your grace. Just don’t let the Starks steal you away from us.”

He ducks into his dressing room before she can say anything else, leaving her dumbfounded in the hall for all of a minute before she turns and goes into her own. What did he mean by that last sentence? Does he think she’s going to just _leave_ , after all the hard work she put in to get here? Working for the Starks was fine when she thought stage management was the closest she’d ever get to actually performing on Visway, but she’s not ready to forget that it took leaving their company behind for someone to give her a chance. 

Catelyn had been kind to her, though, and had given her plenty of opportunities the average stage manager wouldn’t get. Brienne’s in no way ready to let someone steal her away from _Moulin Rouge!_ —and honestly, they haven’t even released the early reviews yet, it’s absurd of Jaime to think she’d attract that much attention this quickly—but she’d like to talk to Catelyn, see how things have been in the near-year since she last departed Winterfell Theatre, and so she hurries out of costume with Pia’s help before heading back down to the main floor and the door leading out to the road.

Jaime’s waiting for her by the door when she arrives, his odd mood from earlier having vanished in the time it took him to change back into street clothes. “You ready for this?” he asks, grabbing a handful of pens from a basket and handing her one before taking one for himself and putting the rest back. “Apparently there’s a lot of people waiting out there.”

The nerves that faded with the final round of applause from the audience abruptly return in full force, and she offers Jaime a weak grin even as most of her attention fixes on the door in front of her. “Any advice?” 

“Take everything in stride?” he suggests with a helpless shrug. “I don’t know, honestly. Stage dooring is always unpredictable, although people are generally lovely. If you do have trouble, there’s security right there, but other than that...don’t be a dick?”

“I presume fans generally don’t like people who treat them like shit,” she says, mustering up a surprising amount of dry wit. Jaime laughs loudly at that, then pushes the door open and gestures for her to step through.

“After you, your grace? You _are_ on a time limit.”

Brienne takes a deep breath in and steps outside, squinting until her eyes adjust to the darkness outside the theatre. Jaime wasn’t kidding when he said there were a lot of people—a veritable wall of ecstatic faces greets her the instant she leaves the safety of the theatre behind, all shouting and cheering and waving Playbills around in hopes they’ll be the first to grab her attention. It’s a smaller chorus of voices than the one that greeted her during the encore, but it’s also a more overwhelming one. All these people are here waiting to see _her_ —the rest of the cast as well, of course, but right now the full force of their attention is on her, and this time she doesn’t have the stage lights protecting her from whatever judgement might be in their gazes.

She hesitates on the stairs for a moment, staring out at the eager crowd of bright eyes and broad grins, until Jaime comes up close enough behind her that she can feel his breath against the back of her neck. “They’re not gonna bite you,” he whispers, cool amusement trickling into his voice and sending shivers down her spine. “You don’t need to be afraid of them.”

“I’m not afraid,” she grumbles, knowing the words for a lie the moment she utters them. Still, she takes that last step down, reaching out blindly for the first paper item she can grasp before she can talk herself out of it. The owner of the Playbill, a teenage girl with light brown hair who squeals in delight when Brienne smiles tentatively at her, almost immediately turns to her friend, a redhead whose face is shrouded by her hair as she looks off into the distance.

“Sansa!” the first girl hisses, hitting her friend in the arm until she glances over. “Sansa, it’s Brienne Tarth! She’s here!”

Brienne feels her cheeks burn at the girl’s enthusiasm and bites her lip as she finishes signing her Playbill and hands it back, before turning to greet the friend and finds herself looking down at a grinning Sansa Stark. “Oh! Hey!” she says to Sansa, whose grin widens as she extends her own Playbill to Brienne. “I didn’t know you were here tonight!”

“Yeah, I came with my mom and Jeyne,” Sansa replies, nodding to her friend who’s now beaming with her hands clapped against her cheeks as she watches them talk. “You were absolutely amazing! We all loved it so much!”

“Thank you,” Brienne murmurs, ducking her head as she scrawls her name and gives Sansa her Playbill back. “Here’s hoping the critics agree with you on that front.”

“I’m sure they will,” Sansa says, turning her grin on Jeyne briefly before returning her gaze to Brienne. Her expression sobers slightly as she asks, “Have you talked to my mom yet?”

“Not yet, no. I was gonna meet with her once I finish up out here.”

Sansa nods slowly, an unreadable expression flickering across her face. “I look forward to hearing how that goes,” she says after a moment, her tone so carefully even that Brienne raises an eyebrow at her. “Don’t bother asking me, though. Just...you should talk to her.”

She starts talking to Jeyne almost immediately, preventing any further conversation, and Brienne’s swept along to the next person, and the next, unable to linger for too long with any one person for fear of the tide sweeping her away. The small talk she shares with each person as she signs whatever they shove at her and accepts their enthusiastic praise gets easier as she moves down the line, and Sansa’s cryptic words are soon forgotten as she greets person after person, signs until her wrist aches and then keeps signing because there’s still _more people._

She’s still wrapped in the same surreal haze from onstage, but this isn’t a fantasy any more than the wild applause at the end of the performance was one. She’s really here, shivering somewhat as a cool wind blows down the street, greeting close to a hundred eager fans, all of whom look absolutely delighted by the prospect of seeing _her_. In all her years of longing, she’d _never_ imagined anything like this.

At one point, when she’s halfway down the line and engaged with an older couple who apparently had their first date at Sunspear Theatre, she glances over at where Jaime’s lingering near the door, chatting with a group of young men and women who are all staring up at him with awe and lust mixed together on their faces. He beams and gives her a thumbs-up gesture before returning his attention to the fans, and she draws in another deep breath before moving on to the next person, the next Playbill, the next phone extended for a selfie.

It’s...it’s _fun,_ actually, once she settles into a routine. The enthusiasm of the people she meets is impossible to ignore, and it spills over the barriers separating her from the crowd, filling the air around her and making each step a little bit lighter, each polite smile a little less strained. She doesn’t stay with any one person or group nearly as long as Jaime does—the ticking clock in her head, reminding her of her upcoming meeting with Catelyn, won’t allow her to do so—but there’s usually enough time for people to share an anecdote about their love for theatre, or the show itself, or how much they’d loved her performance. Those tiny pieces of the people she meets are the best part of the whole experience, making it hard to tear herself away when she finally reaches the end of the row and realizes she can’t keep Catelyn waiting any longer.

Areo’s hovering near the door when she slips back inside, sparing one last glance back at where Jaime’s now charming a pair of elderly men. He doesn’t see her this time, so she turns away quickly to follow Areo back through the halls, heading towards the stage and her meeting with Catelyn.

As it turns out, she’s not the only person with guests waiting for them—Margaery is surging past her to fling herself into the arms of someone Brienne assumes is one of her brothers, and Asha and Theon appear to be in a silent standoff with one of their uncles. She catches sight of Catelyn standing off to the side looking down at her phone with an expression so carefully neutral it’s mildly terrifying. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and she’s wearing a tailored black suit that only adds to the intimidating air about her, but she smiles at Brienne as she comes over, and it’s enough to temporarily assure Brienne that the other woman didn’t hate her performance enough to let it show.

“It’s good to see you again,” Catelyn greets her, extending her arms and drawing Brienne into a brief embrace. “I see your time here has been good for you. You’re carrying yourself just a little bit taller, but it makes a difference.”

“Everyone’s been very supportive,” Brienne mumbles, feeling her cheeks heat as she ducks her head. “It’s helped a lot with my confidence.”

“Still, I’m glad to see you’ve flourished here with the Martells. It’s enough to make me regret not giving you more opportunities to shine back when you worked for us.”

Brienne bites her lip, reluctant to admit she’d been thinking something similar not much earlier. It’s true that the Starks _could_ have done more for her, but she’d feel greedy saying so now that she’s finally achieving her long-awaited dream. “You’ve already done so much to help me. I would never have made it here without your encouragement.”

Catelyn smiles again, a knowing glint in her eyes. “You’re very kind, Brienne. I hope that kindness doesn’t eventually betray you. This is _such_ a competitive industry, after all, and people will seize anything they perceive as a weakness in hopes of bringing their opponents down.”

_Is she trying to warn me about other people, or about herself?_ The dangerous note in Catelyn’s tone is impossible to ignore, but Brienne squares her shoulders and pastes a smirk Jaime would be proud of on her face. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve picked up on a few tricks over the years.”

“Yes, I see you have,” Catelyn murmurs, arching an eyebrow. Her serene gaze doesn’t falter, but for a moment Brienne imagines she looks impressed. “I also see you’ve been spending quite a bit of time around Jaime Lannister.”

It’s impossible to discern any emotion from her even tone, and Brienne can’t recall if Catelyn shares her husband’s distaste for Jaime, so she merely nods in response and lets Catelyn continue without further comment. 

“The performance tonight was excellent, and yours especially so, you know. I imagine Doran’s very smug right now, since he’s the only one who was clever enough to snap you up before people realized the talents you had on offer.”

“I haven’t spoken to Doran yet, but I’m sure he’s proud of everyone. We all worked very hard to make this production into the best it could possibly be.”

Both Catelyn’s eyebrows flick upwards, and this time Brienne knows she’s not imagining the impressed look on her face. “Yes, of course! This is an incredible ensemble show. None of your performances would be half as good if you didn’t have the others to rely on.” She pauses for a moment, before slowly adding, “You and Jaime are an especially poignant example of that.”

Their castmates have been saying the same thing with remarkable frequency over the last few months. Brienne knows onstage chemistry matters, but at this point it feels like everyone is placing more emphasis on it than it deserves.

“Jaime’s very talented,” she tells Catelyn after a long moment passes in silence. “He gives me plenty to work with, which makes it a lot easier.”

Her diplomatic phrasing is more reminiscent of that interview with Varys, or the dozen other press events she’s been a part of in the weeks since, than any conversation she’s had with Doran or Oberyn so far. She knows from her time working for the Starks that carefully measured neutrality is Catelyn’s usual style, brought on by growing up as heir to the world’s largest entertainment empire, but the contrast between that and Oberyn’s effusive praise and easy grins is all the more startling now that Brienne’s gotten used to the latter.

Catelyn nods slowly, before her phone dings and she pulls it out to glance at the screen. “Oh, Sansa’s done with the stage door. I should take her home before it gets too late, but it was lovely to catch up with you again! And you should check your voicemail whenever you’re able; you might find something of interest to you there.”

She sweeps away, stepping around Asha and Theon, who are now hissing at their uncle in low voices. Brienne watches her depart for a long moment, her hand straying to her pocket before she remembers her phone is still upstairs in her dressing room.

Her conversation with Catelyn wasn’t unnerving, precisely, but something about it’s thrown Brienne off-kilter, left her more uncertain than she’d expected to be considering the joyous reception they’d been given tonight. [Combined with Sansa’s strange comments at the stage door, it’s even more unnerving.] Maybe Jaime was right to be worried about the Starks trying to steal her back now that she’s had a chance to prove herself.

_Or maybe Catelyn was just trying to be kind._ There’s no reason for Brienne to be thinking the worst of the other woman, not when Catelyn’s done more for her career than most of the other directors Brienne’s worked with. Jaime was just worried about losing his costar, though she doesn’t know why that would matter so much to him. He’s talented enough to work well with anybody Doran might throw his way.

“Brienne!” Margaery calls from across the room, waving her over with a cheery grin and her brother’s arm slung over her shoulders. “Loras says you completely humiliated him when you were working on _Kinky Boots_ , and I need to know if it’s true so I can congratulate you.”

Brienne smiles, sending one last glance in the direction Catelyn departed in before hurrying over while Margaery beams and Loras sighs heavily. _Enough worrying_. She’s just finished her first-ever performance on Visway, and according to everyone around her she did an incredible job of it. Tonight is for celebration, and she has no intentions of letting anything else burst through the bubble of joy she’s more than earned after all these years of waiting and dreaming, never actually believing a day like this would ever come.

***

1 New Voice Message From: Catelyn Stark

_Hello Brienne,  
Congratulations on your first Visway performance. You did an excellent job tonight, and I imagine you’ll find yourself with plenty of options when thinking about your future. I know you’re committed to doing _Moulin Rouge! _right now, but once you’re ready to move on, I would appreciate it if you considered giving me a call. I think we might be able to come to an agreement, if you’re up for one._  
Wishing you the best of luck with the rest of the run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my children did it i'm so proud of them.
> 
> if you're wondering what the difference between a preview and a regular performance is, previews are the set of performances (usually around a month or so long, but they can be shorter or longer depending on the show) that take place before the proper opening night. these are so the cast and creatives can test out the show so far and see what works and what doesn't, and also allows reviewers to come in in the last week or so before the show opens and get their reviews prepared ahead of time so they can be released right after opening night (this is something i am fudging in this fic, but i have my reasons for it). getting to see a show while it's still in previews is considered to be a really cool thing, and I _believe_ most preview audiences tend towards the more energetic (i have never been to a preview, so i can't confirm or deny this)?
> 
> (fun fact: it is fully possible for a show to close while still in previews! that's not a risk at _all_ in this fic, but it has happened in the past to a surprising number of shows.)
> 
> if you're wondering what the first article in this chapter is meant to be, it's borrowing parts of the real-life Playbill design to create a fictional one for this show. it's not 100% accurate to the real design, but i spent way too much time on that thing already and the formatting would probably have gotten wonky if i'd kept working on it.
> 
> a note that isn't relevant to this chapter but will come up with the next few: i'm not always going to show elements of the performance, or even any of the events surrounding it. showing too much of the musical itself could easily get repetitive, and there's a few moments i'm trying to save for later in the story. also occasionally the plot calls for greater focus on events unrelated to the day's performance, and the show will largely be used as a marker of timeline for those events. i'll also probably never show the entire musical, mainly because it's more work than it's worth and i would probably cry if i tried to.
> 
> next chapter may not come out next week, although i'm hoping it will so i don't take a whole year to finish this damn fic. if it doesn't, don't be alarmed, i'm either really busy or the chapter needed more work than I anticipated (which would be awful because i'm already struggling a lot with it). 
> 
> next time: people begin to react to the show, it's Brienne's turn to come to a realization, and Jaime has a lot to think about.


	12. Second Preview/The History of Wrong Guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before she can spiral further, someone raps at the door, and she glances up to see Jaime hovering in the doorway, concern written across his face as he watches her. “Everything alright?” he asks, and the quiet murmurs of his words to her back on _Company_ abruptly go silent. This isn’t the same Jaime she met briefly ten years ago. He’s her friend, her co-star, her confidante, and he’s looking at her with enough worry that even the most persistent voice in her head can’t deny he cares for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go again, i guess.
> 
> i just wanted to start by thanking everyone for their lovely responses to last chapter! it's probably my favourite chapter of this fic so far, and I'm really happy that you all enjoyed it as much as I did! hopefully i can continue to live up to the standard i set there, even though this chapter and the next one have been a struggle to get through!
> 
> no warnings for this chapter, and it's also a somewhat-reasonable length for once so yay for that. thank you to sdwolfpup for betaing this, and thank YOU for reading it!!

_Women have been making bad choices  
Since the beginning of time  
Are you gonna be another one of mine?  
-The History of Wrong Guys, Kinky Boots_

_**Moulin Rouge!**_ **Dazzles in First Visway Performance**  
Varys for visway.com  
Curtain Up October 13th, 2019

The highly anticipated new musical _Moulin Rouge!_ began previews last night at Sunspear Theatre. The stage adaptation of Willas Tyrell’s hit film will officially open on November 7th.

The spectacular production stars newcomer Brienne Tarth, two-time Webb winner Jaime Lannister, Webb winner Arianne Martell, Obara Sand, Margaery Tyrell, Asha Greyjoy, and Addam Marbrand. Martell, Sand, Greyjoy, and Tyrell are all reprising their performances from the Riverrun engagement.

Set against the backdrop of the Pentos of a hundred years ago, _Moulin Rouge!_ follows ambitious writer Cyrenna (Tarth) and enchanting courtesan Sebaston (Lannister). Their paths meet at the Moulin Rouge nightclub hosted by Valena Yronwood (Martell), while surrounded by an eclectic and delightful supporting cast including brilliant impoverished artist Tyanna Haratis (Sand), tango dancer Esgred (Greyjoy), alluring dancer Nyles (Marbrand), and the wealthy and entitled Duchess of Highgarden (Tyrell), who is convinced she can buy anything she wants, including love.

 _Moulin Rouge!_ features direction by Oberyn Martell, choreography by Ellaria Sand, and Nymeria Sand as music supervisor. Willas Tyrell is responsible for the book and orchestrations. The show’s design team features Melisandre van Houten (scenic design), Satin Flowers (costume design), Bowen Marsh (lighting design), Jon Connington (sound design), and Jaqen H’ghar (hair and wig design). 

_**Moulin Rouge!**_ **A Clunky Mess of a Production**  
Petyr Baelish, ViswayNow  
October 13th, 2019

The stage adaptation of Willas Tyrell’s hit film _Moulin Rouge!_ played its first Visway preview last night to a packed house, despite having sorely disappointed audiences in its Riverrun engagement and recasting multiple roles that it filled with generally subpar actors. While Sunspear Theatre shone brightly with Melisandre van Houten’s remarkable scenic design, the show itself is disjointed and unrefined, one that would be better left in Tyrell’s mind.

Despite the best efforts of past-his-prime director Oberyn Martell, stars Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth are utterly unequipped for the range and complexity of the pop numbers contained within the score, and sorely lack the chemistry that was one of the few positives from the Riverrun production. Tarth in particular is ill-prepared for the intensity of a Visway production, and could stand to spend a few more years lingering in the shadows of her father’s productions before attempting to pretend she’s capable of acting a second time. The supporting cast is equally lackluster, with the only performance of note being Addam Marbrand’s humiliating turn as Nyles—I certainly found it near impossible to watch him stumble around onstage pretending to be capable of dancing Ellaria Sand’s typically extravagant choreography.

As for the story, it lacks the emotional depth that made the film so beloved, both due to the hollowness brought on by the changes to the script and the disappointing flatness between Lannister and Tarth that could never hope to equal the performances of Ashara Dayne and Brynden Tully in the film. The show relies too heavily on its flashing lights and big numbers, leaving audience members disoriented but otherwise untouched at the end of its two-hour run. 

Although _Moulin Rouge!_ is expected to be a Visway hot ticket upon its November opening, I’d suggest to skip this overly-bright mess and go check out Casterly Theatre’s _West Side Story_ instead. At least there the leads look like they actually like each other.

***

The cast’s group chat is blowing up when Brienne finally checks her phone as she walks into the theatre, discussing the first preview and the subsequent early reviews she has yet to see. Margaery’s sent a half-dozen links to the group chat that Brienne clicks on one at a time, wary at first but growing more and more eager with every subsequent article. She hadn’t sought out reviews on her own earlier, despite the niggling desire to know that’s been haunting her all day. Every time she’d gone to open social media or scour the weirnet, the gripping terror from before the preview had seized her again, and as a result she’s spent most of the morning carefully _not_ looking at her phone, too afraid to see what people might be saying about the show. 

Visway.com has supplied a mostly-neutral article with just enough positive descriptors to assuage her nerves, and from there on they only seem to grow more enthusiastic. The Raven News review says little about the acting itself but praises the ‘electric atmosphere between the two leads as well as the entire rest of the cast’, and the King’s Landing Times offers a glowing review that particularly cites her performance— _her performance_ —as ‘one of the most promising Visway debuts I’ve seen in the last decade.’ There’s more, a half-dozen lines that Margaery highlights and sends to her with a series of expletives and heart-eyes emojis, and before long she’s grinning at her phone, unable to help herself as the praise washes over her.

The last link, however, is sent by Asha, with a comment of _fucking Baelish, seriously?_ attached at the bottom. Brienne hesitates for a long moment before clicking that one, and almost immediately wishes she hadn’t hit the link at all.

She knows Petyr Baelish hates the Martells, hadn’t expected him to leave the same glowing reviews she’s seen everywhere else, but to be singled out like that, by a—mostly—well respected reviewer, feels awful, almost as devastating as sitting in Randyll Tarly’s office slowly realizing what he’d called her there to talk about. Everyone else has been relentlessly praising her to the point where she’s almost tempted to believe she’s as talented as they’re all saying, but Baelish’s words are a rush of cold water, a sharp reminder of _why_ , exactly, she’s never been able to break into the industry until now.

It somehow hurts _more_ , despite having a job and a supportive creative team and castmates she no longer hesitates to call friends. She hadn’t outwardly tried to convince herself getting all the things she’s ever wanted would make all the hardships easier to endure, but a part of her had thought that all the same, and it’s painful, seeing those words on her phone and realizing she’s not nearly as immune to them as she thought she was.

The delight drains out of her as she walks into her dressing room, dumping her bag on the floor as she sinks into a chair. She’s limp, wrung out as she sits staring down at her phone, knowing she _should_ close the tab, go back to all the other reviews that vastly outnumber Baelish and are a thousand times more positive, but she can’t, can’t look away, and for a moment Jaime’s voice is in her head again, not _her_ Jaime, the one who had seized her by the shoulders after the preview while bursting with praise for her talents, but the Jaime from before, mocking and snide and derisive.

Bitter experience has taught her that the cruel words linger far longer than the kind ones do. She’d been so _proud_ a moment ago, reading everyone’s glowing praise. And now she’d be hard-pressed to remember a single word of it in the face of Petyr Baelish and his condescension— _ill-prepared for the intensity of a Visway production_ , he’d said, with the kind of smug knowing that transcends the medium of the written word. 

Her phone keeps dinging, more texts coming in, but she ignores them, finally turning it off and tossing it to the side as she buries her face in her hands. For a moment, in the face of everyone’s praise and enthusiasm, she’d forgotten her fears of not being good enough, of failing yet _again_. Baelish has brought them all rushing back at once, and a part of her hates him for it even as another part wonders if he’s the only one telling the truth, the only one willing to admit how terrible she really is.

He’s not, she _knows_ he’s not. He’d decried Jaime’s performance as well, and she saw it for herself from the wings and the stage, watched the audience fall under his spell during The Sparkling Diamond like she’d known they would. And the other things he’d said, well, Oberyn’s _definitely_ not past his prime, and Addam had been phenomenal from the moment the curtains rose. Nothing Baelish says about her or anyone else can be believed.

It’s not like that’s new information, either: Petyr Baelish’s untrustworthiness has been decried a thousand times by Visway stars and his fellow reporters alike. He’s known for accepting bribes, for attacking certain actors based on preconceived prejudices and nothing else, and Varys had famously said in a rare fit of anger that he’d be glad to forcibly remove Baelish from the journalism industry with his bare hands if need be.

And she _knows_ this, it’s just...hard to accept. His words are a confirmation of everything she’s been told throughout her career—that she’ll never be good enough to find a place on Visway, and even if she does no one will accept her presence there. He may only be one voice in the crowd, and a lying one at that, but he’s a loud voice too, and one she can’t escape.

Before she can spiral further, someone raps at the door, and she glances up to see Jaime hovering in the doorway, concern written across his face as he watches her. “Everything alright?” he asks, and the quiet murmurs of his words to her back on _Company_ abruptly go silent. This isn’t the same Jaime she met briefly ten years ago. He’s her friend, her co-star, her confidante, and he’s looking at her with enough worry that even the most persistent voice in her head can’t deny he cares for her.

She shrugs, struggling to find some way to explain her obvious distress without admitting too many of her insecurities. “Not really? I just read something, and…”

“You saw Baelish’s _review_ ,” he deduces, spitting out the word ‘review’ derisively enough to assure her of how little he believes it’s true. “The audacity of that man, honestly. Everyone already knows he’s been taking bribes from my father for years, he doesn’t need to make it so _obvious_.”

Jaime’s evident disgust makes her laugh, and the worry on his face vanishes immediately. He pushes off the doorframe and comes over to drop down onto the couch, smiling softly in her direction, and she has to look away before her stomach can begin doing backflips at the sight.

“Seriously, there’s no need to bring up _West Side Story_ when you’re meant to be reviewing _Moulin Rouge!_ ,” she supplies, reaching to grab her phone and close the article. “It’s almost like he _wanted_ people to see how much of a sellout he is.”

She glances back at Jaime in time to see a flicker of worry cross his face before his smile returns, a bit dimmer than before. “Honestly, anyone worth their salt figured that out years ago,” he says, slowly enough to make her think it isn’t what he’d been thinking just a moment before. “I’d say don’t bother listening to what he says because he’s an insignificant slug, but I know it’s not that easy.”

Brienne nods and looks down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. “I keep thinking it shouldn’t bother me anymore. I’m finally getting everything I dreamed about—a chance to perform on Visway, an incredible group of friends, the praise of reviewers who would’ve scorned me once upon a time. Why am I letting one man ruin all that?”

“I wish I could help you,” Jaime says, lowering his voice and reaching out to place his hand over hers. “But I’m not exactly qualified to tell you how these things work, and I doubt the weirnet is gonna be a reliable source of information in this case. All I know is that criticism hurts, especially when you know you don’t deserve it. You were amazing yesterday, Brienne. Everyone who saw you perform knows how amazing you are. But people like Baelish would rather tear you down than admit you blew them away, and it can be hard not to heed them when you’re still a little insecure about everything.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re not qualified to talk about this shit?”

“Only for you, your grace,” he replies, spreading his free arm wide and bending forward in a mock bow. She laughs at him again, at his theatrics and his carefree grin, and he briefly chuckles before lifting her hand and pressing his lips to the back of it.

Her heart stops in her chest, at the gesture or the ease of it or the way he leans back and beams at her as if nothing happened. It’s the kind of simple affection she’d fantasized about when she was young, watching romantic movies way too late at night and wondering if she’d ever be loved as deeply as the leads always seemed to be. And it fits with the courtly air Jaime sometimes affects when he thinks he’s being particularly funny—which he is, but she’ll _never_ tell him that—despite the fact that he’s never done _this_ before.

He starts talking about some amusing thing he’d seen on the way to the theatre as if nothing had happened, as if she isn’t sitting in front of him reeling from his thoughtless gesture. She manages to vaguely follow along, nodding and laughing in all the right places, but her mind keeps spinning in wide, useless circles, over and over and over in the same pattern and leaving her more baffled than she already was. Even the warmth of his hand still covering hers isn’t enough to pull her from her thoughts—though she’s no less aware of it, and the fact that, despite the near-constant motion of his right arm, he has yet to pull it away.

Brienne isn’t blind; she’s well aware Jaime’s one of the most attractive men she’s ever seen. She also knows that attractive men are her weakness, and that she’s been burned before in this matter—even though Renly Baratheon had never once looked at her with anything other than a sort of distant kindness. But she can weather infatuation, can even weather the strange heat she’d felt when she’d first seen Jaime in costume, strutting about confident and proud in silk and lace and flowing dresses. She’d even _expected_ to end up crushing on him for a little while—he’s very much her type, and he’s _constantly_ around, golden and laughing and elegant and affectionate. 

But _this_ , this warmth fluttering in her stomach as she notes how unusually long their hands have been joined, this joy she feels when she arrives at the theatre and he’s the first person to greet her, this longing for his joking chivalry to be real, this is very much not something she can handle. She won’t put a name to it for fear of revealing too much—to Jaime or to herself, she’s not quite sure—but it’s beyond the realm of her infatuation with Renly, or the minor crush she’d told herself she could work with.

She’s saved from having to think any more about it by Addam’s appearance in the doorway, his gaze darting between her and Jaime before he turns and grins at his friend. “Thought I might find you in here,” Addam begins, and that simple statement is enough to scatter the thoughts she’s only just begun to gather back together and leave her disoriented and uncertain again as Addam enters her dressing room.

Jaime raises an eyebrow, releasing her hand at last. She doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful at the gesture— _no, no, stop_ thinking _about it!_

“I’m feeling a little neglected, actually,” Addam continues, grinning broadly at Jaime, who rolls his eyes in response. “You’re spending all your time with Brienne these days and ignoring me, your oldest and dearest friend, the person who’s been with you through thick and thin, who knows all your deepest secrets—”

“Don’t you think you’re laying it on a little thick? Besides, you’ve been spending half your time chatting with Arianne and Asha, you don’t exactly have a leg to stand on here.”

Brienne leans back and watches as the two men continue to bicker, their fondness for each other shining through their irritated facades. A part of her wants to get Addam alone—he’s Jaime’s oldest friend, and they were together for what she suspects was a fairly significant amount of time. If anyone could help her with her newly realized feelings, it’d be him.

But what advice could he possibly have to offer her? She won’t pretend to know the specifics of his relationship with Jaime, but she doubts it was like this. And she’s handled ill-advised feelings before, no matter that they weren’t nearly as strong as these ones. She can deal with this on her own...can’t she?

Watching Jaime and Addam talk leaves her feeling as if she’s standing in the wings, watching the cast rush past her to leap onto the stage while she stays rooted to the spot, unable to move her feet even as the world spins on and the next number begins. They continue as though nothing has changed, and she won’t let anything change for her, either.

Because, reckless feelings or no, Jaime’s her _friend,_ and a damn good one at that. She’d be an asshole of the worst kind if she tried to push him away just because her heart’s incapable of appreciating the best friendship she’s ever had. Maybe his exaggerated courtly manner and insistence on calling her _your grace_ will be harder to brush off as a mere joke, but she _can_ do it. It’ll just require a little more effort than she’d initially anticipated.

She tugs herself out of her thoughts just in time for Jaime to turn towards her, a beatific smile on his face, and she immediately curses every one of the Seven. If they were going to give her feelings for someone who’ll never return them _again_ , they could have at least bothered to make it _easier_ this time around. “Well, I don’t think Brienne’ll have anything to worry about,” he tells Addam, continuing to grin at her, utterly oblivious to her struggles. “Everyone with a worthy opinion saw how good she is last night, and I doubt that’s gonna change any time soon.”

Addam rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning too as he bounds to his feet. “Yes, yes, we all know how highly you think of Brienne’s performance. However, _I_ still want to go bother Oberyn and tell him about how highly _he_ was reviewed, since he’ll end up running around trying to deal with the performance notes soon enough and be pretty difficult to find. If you join me, we can corner him more easily than I could alone, especially since I heard Elia’s coming by tonight, and I wanna talk to him before his sister steals his attention.”

“ _Fine_ , I’ll come with you,” Jaime grumbles, pushing himself up while Brienne’s still trying to absorb their compliments. “You gonna join us, Brienne?”

“Sure,” she mumbles after a long moment, trying to ignore the way Jaime beams at her as she speaks. She’d _just_ resolved to not let her feelings for him change things; he could at least make it easier for her by not being so _beautiful_ all the time.

Of course, he has no idea what effect he has on her, and so he stretches out his hand to her with a glint appearing in his gaze. “Shall we, your grace?” he asks, ignoring Addam snickering in the background. She smiles back at him and lets him pull her to her feet, trying not to focus on how warm his palm is against hers, how his fingers remain curled around her wrist for what seems an impossibly long time before he releases it, how dazzling his smile is when he turns away to follow Addam out of the room...

 _Oh gods_ , she thinks faintly to herself before hurrying down the hall after Addam and Jaime. _I am so, so screwed._

***

 **Elia Martell:** so, I heard the first preview went well?

 **Oberyn Martell:** it was fantastic! The cast were great, and the early reviews have been overwhelmingly positive so far  
 **Oberyn Martell:** well, mostly

 **Elia Martell:** yeah, I heard about Baelish already from Doran  
 **Elia Martell:** still, that’s good to hear! Bodes well for the rest of the run!

 **Oberyn Martell:** you still coming by tonight?

 **Elia Martell:** yes! I don’t think Rhae’s gonna be joining me though, she’s heading out with friends tonight

 **Oberyn Martell:** alas, my niece has shunned me once again

 **Elia Martell:** quit being so dramatic, you know she loves you

 **Oberyn Martell:** you shut up I love drama  
 **Oberyn Martell:** do you mind talking to Jaime while you’re here? I’m worried about how he’s handling everything with his father right now, and idk if I’m the right person to talk to him about it

 **Elia Martell:** of course!  
 **Elia Martell:** he hasn’t said anything yet, has he?

 **Oberyn Martell:** no. I’m trying not to worry too much about it, but…

 **Elia Martell:** I know what you mean, sadly  
 **Elia Martell:** I should let you go, but I’ll see you tonight! 

**Oberyn Martell:** give Rhae my love and tell her her favourite uncle is sad she won’t be there

 **Elia Martell:** rhae knows better than to fall for that old trick by now  
 **Elia Martell:** but I will, don’t worry

 **Oberyn Martell:** knew I could count on you

***

When Jaime finally returns to his dressing room after the second preview, Elia’s waiting for him, her dark eyes anxious as she rises to her feet to offer him the chair in front of the vanity. “You sure took your time getting here,” she says, her words teasing even if her tone is stiff and uncertain. 

“Sorry about that,” he says with a sigh, dropping into the chair with a grateful groan. He slowly rolls his shoulders back and forth before straightening to look over at his friend. “Stage door was packed tonight.”

She smiles at that, warmth coming onto her face for a moment before the worry floods back in. “That bodes well.”

“It does, although I’m trying not to get too excited just yet. Who knows how well the show’s gonna do once it actually opens?”

“Hopefully better than _West Side Story_ ,” she says wryly, and they both laugh before her expression turns somber once again. “Speaking of _West Side Story_...Jaime, what are you going to do about your father?”

Part of him still wants to petulantly mutter _do I have to do anything_ , but his conversation with Oberyn and Doran disproved that already, and his own steadily increasing guilt won’t let him walk away that easily anyway. “I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. “I know I should say _something_ to prove him wrong, but I don’t know what, or how.”

Elia nods thoughtfully, her brow furrowing as she sits down on another chair tucked into the corner. “How is easy. You do an interview with Varys, get him to ask all the right questions, and boom, it’s done.”

“I don’t know what the right questions _are_ , though.”

“That’s always the hard part,” she agrees with a sad smile, and he knows she’s thinking of her divorce, of the messy allegations flung her way that she was forced to counter even though everyone knew they were false. Thank the gods Varys had been sensible enough to offer her the platform to prove that. “It’d be different this was a minor issue no one was paying attention to. You might not even need to say anything, if that were the case. But this isn’t just Baelish taking your father’s money and spinning lies with it anymore. Raven News did a section on your possible return. Doran says Robert Arryn was asking about the possibility of it when he came by for the first preview. The big publications are starting to look into this, and if you don’t try to get your statement out there it won’t matter what you say or do anymore, because no one will believe you.”

Her face twists sharply, and Jaime reaches out to place his hand on her arm. She’d know about not being believed all too well, after everything Rhaegar had put her through, after every shitty thing the press has said about her over the years. He’s lucky enough to be facing his father who’s rapidly spiralling into ignominy rather than a beloved writer and producer, and he won’t have to endure nearly the same amount of prejudice as Elia did. But she still makes a good point about ensuring his narrative isn’t overwhelmed by the tidal wave of his father’s attempts at convincing the world he’ll be returning to the family business.

“I can start small, I guess,” he suggests, frowning down at the vanity. “Release a statement definitively saying I’m _not_ going back. That might help while I try to get things organized for a bigger step against him.”

Elia raises an eyebrow. “I really don’t think you need to do that much, Jaime. Just continuing to prove that he’s lying is already huge. If you keep insisting that you’re staying here, he won’t have a leg to stand on for much longer, and all the stories will be about how desperate Tywin Lannister must be if he has to resort to lies to keep the public interested.”

He’s already shaking her head before she’s done speaking. “It’s not enough. I enabled him for far too long; just saying ‘he’s lying’ isn’t going to make up for that. It’s not going to help me atone for every awful thing I did because he asked it of me.”

“ _Jaime_.” She’s exasperated with him now, though he can’t figure out why. “You are not responsible for every one of your family’s wrongdoings. Don’t waste all your time trying to atone for things you didn't do when there’s no need for it. Let your family handle their own mistakes for once, instead of trying to take them all on your own shoulders.”

 _You’re a Lannister,_ Gerold Dayne had said at rehearsal weeks ago, spitting out the name as if it were a curse. And perhaps it is, because his family has brought nothing but misery to so many people. He’s been no better than the rest of them—no matter what Elia might say. Insulting Brienne, failing to inquire into his brother’s whereabouts, silently sitting by for years as his father tried harder and harder to keep up dangerous tradition even as audiences became less interested in it, all of that proves his complicity in their actions.

He may not have been a part of the worst things—protecting Jorah Mormont from prosecution, working actors to the brink of death to satisfy some imagined audience—but he’s no innocent in any of this. And if he pretends he is, then he really is no more than another Lannister snake trying to slip away from the nest when it becomes clear it’s about to be overrun.

Elia’s known him for a long time. She should understand that by now.

But she’s shaking her head at him, still insisting he doesn’t need to take on his family’s crimes without realizing they’re his own crimes as well. He shares the Lannister name, the Lannister looks, has taken part in far too many Lannister productions without looking carefully at what was going on around him. How can he claim he’s better than them, or that he’s played no part in their worst actions? How can Elia just ignore the years he eagerly played up the worst aspects of himself because it was what his family wanted from him?

“I have to do something,” he says at last, refusing to meet her gaze in fear of seeing the doubt in her eyes. “Maybe you don’t think I need to, but _I_ do. _I_ won’t be able to live with myself if I sit by and say nothing else. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“Then do what you think you have to,” she says with a sigh, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tight. “But you’re not obligated to, no matter how much you think you are. Your father was cruel and manipulative and abusive”—he winces at that—”and he’s hurt you enough already. Whatever you think of doing will only result in him hurting you more, either by digging up past wounds or physically sending someone after you or someone you care about.”

His thoughts immediately leap to Brienne, tall and elegant and proud on the stage each night, her eyes glittering beneath the blazing lights every time she glances his way. If his father goes after her, if he tries to undo all the hard work she’s done to get to where she is now…

 _Stop it, Jaime_. Brienne’s not his only friend, and he’s not going to let a momentary crush interfere with his focus on this matter. His father could easily go after Elia, or Addam, or...he can’t actually think of anyone else, but the point still stands. Brienne may be his first thought when it comes to people he cares for these days, but that’ll pass when his infatuation with her does, and it’s not like his father will find her significant enough to care about what she’s doing anyways.

Which is ridiculous. Brienne’s a remarkable person, with a beautiful voice and more talent than Jaime would know what to do with if he had it. _Everyone_ should be paying attention to what she’s doing, if only so they can bask in her radiance every time she strides onto the stage, her coat swirling behind her, her shoulders back and her head held high.

He knows all too well what kind of person his father is, though, and he’s very much the sort to have told Brienne her looks mean she could never hope to succeed as an actor. Tywin would never think that Jaime might care more for Brienne than anyone else he’s working with, because his father is concerned with appearance more than anything else. Even as his public image falls to pieces around him, he’s still obsessed with looking good to the rest of the world, and is clearly willing to use whatever means necessary to ensure that happens. 

The real surprise, Jaime realizes abruptly, is that his father has someone at his disposal to make his arguments even more poignant. If he were to convince Cersei Baratheon to add her voice to the clamour for Jaime’s return, it’d make it even more convincing. She and Jaime may have split up almost ten years ago, but the public and the media still draw connections between the two of them on the regular. If anyone were to be believed in this situation, it’d be her.

“What about Cersei?” he asks, wincing internally as he does. “I only saw a couple of the articles, so I have no idea what she’s saying about my father’s claims.”

“Not much, actually,” Elia tells him, which only adds to his surprise. “Which I was shocked by. I thought he’d try to capitalize on her past relationship with you by having her pretend the two of you were getting back together as part of the reason you intended to return to working for him. But she’s been weirdly quiet about everything so far. She _did_ speak up when everything came out with Mormont, though. Didn’t exactly toe the company line there, either.”

“She did?” Everything surrounding the Jorah Mormont situation had been so awful that Jaime’d completely avoided it after the first few days, unable to see more speculation on how much his father knew—which, he unfortunately suspects, was far more than even the grimmest predictions had suggested. He knows Doran had released a statement, and that Daenerys Targaryen has been especially vocal about the whole thing, but Cersei’s so closely bound with the Lannister Organization that he’d just expected her to stick to the same story as everyone else over there.

“I was surprised, too. But the rumour is she’s unhappy in her contract with your father, and, well...I heard a few things about her marriage to Robert Baratheon that have me suspecting she was very grateful to get that divorce.”

He nods slowly. Everything about his relationship with Cersei had been tumultuous, and he’s done his best to avoid looking back at it in the years since, but he’d never wish anything terrible on her, and Robert Baratheon is, unfortunately, something rather terrible indeed. “I’m...I hope she gets out of her contract, I suppose. No one should have to be tied to my father for a lifetime. ”

“You’re surprisingly forgiving of her after everything that happened between you two,” Elia notes, her lips quirking in an expression he can’t quite read. “I thought you’d be angrier about it.”

“No sense in harbouring grudges when they’ve never done me any good. Besides, I may not want her to ever be part of my life again, but that doesn’t mean I want her to _suffer_. And at least she didn’t publicly drag my name through the mud like Rhaegar tried to do with you. If anything, _I’m_ the one who should be shocked you’re not utterly furious at your ex years later.”

Elia tilts her head to the side, a rueful grin crossing her face. “Fair enough. I didn’t want to keep my anger boiling and have it impact my children, I suppose. Not that it helped any—he ended up screwing up those relationships himself soon enough.”

“He screwed up pretty much everything he did after _Rent_ , I don’t know why that’s a surprise.”

Elia laughs, the sound surprisingly cheerful considering the subject of their conversation. “You never did mince words, Jaime. But enough discussion of my ex-husband. I still think a short, quick statement is enough, but since you’re so insistent on doing something larger, do you know what you want to say?”

He pauses, swallowing when his throat abruptly goes dry. “Honestly, I have no idea. But you have a point about talking to Varys about my side of things. Telling him how it really was growing up under Tywin Lannister. Or something like that, I guess.”

“Then do that. You don’t have to talk to Varys right away; there’s still plenty of time and I can’t imagine your father giving up that quickly. Release your small statement, arrange things with Varys once you figure out what you want to say, and then make sure your father can’t argue with any of it—because you know he will, if he thinks he’s able to.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I think just making it clear your father’s lying is enough,” Elia says quietly, her gaze boring into him until he glances away. “But I also know when I’m fighting a losing battle, so I won’t argue the point any further. Just be careful not to drag anyone else into this, and things should be alright.” 

“I’ll do my best.” He tries to smile at Elia, but her frown is enough to prove she’s not convinced. “Thanks for your help, El. Here’s hoping it works out better for me than it did for you.”

“Gods, it better,” she mutters, shaking her head before standing and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I should leave you to get some rest. Don’t spend too much time worrying about this, ‘kay? You need to be in top form for opening night, after all.”

He nods as she leaves the room, before exhaling sharply and burying his head in his hands. Why does it all have to be so _complicated?_ His father’s created this awful mess and gotten everyone else tangled up in it—Jaime himself, Daenerys and the Martells, Cersei, and so many others too. He hadn’t thought returning to Visway would be _easy_ , but he hadn’t thought it’d be like this, either.

But there’s no time to waste on wondering how it ended up like this. All three Martell siblings have made it clear by now that he has to do something, and quickly, before his father totally seizes control of the narrative and rewrites it to suit himself once again. The sooner he gets an initial statement out, the better. It’ll buy him more time to produce a larger article, to reveal something even his father won’t be able to refute. 

He needs to go see Varys as soon as he’s able to, and he needs to start thinking about what he wants to say in his first statement. Elia’s likely right about simplicity being enough—so he’ll keep it to a brief admittance that his father’s lying—but should he mention something about the longer article he plans to do? Is it a good idea when he has no idea when he might have the time to tell the full story? 

_No,_ he thinks, lifting his head and frowning. _I can maybe_ hint _at a greater story, but without knowing when it’s not a good idea to say anything for certain._

With that settled, he turns his thoughts to the next important detail: the larger statement he has yet to determine the specifics of. Telling the truth of his father, revealing all the sordid details he’s learned from all his years working for the Lannister Organization, it’s not nearly as simple as coming forward to denounce Aerys was. No matter how much anger he harbours towards his father, this is still his _father_ he’s talking about. Their relationship has never been anything but strained, yet there’s still a small part of Jaime that longs for Tywin’s approval and affection, that holds out hope of some impossible day when his father might show he actually cares for his children.

But Jaime knows all too well that’s never going to happen. 

So he’ll do what he did before, reveal another painful truth kept hidden for far too long. It’ll be easy enough to tell the story of growing up with Tywin Lannister—once he works through the gut-wrenching guilt of speaking against his own family. All that remains is deciding when to do so, and once that happens there’ll be no going back.

For better or for worse, he’ll have chosen to make his stand. His only hope is that this time he won’t be alone, that the Martells and Daenerys Targaryen and even his friends will stand with him, instead of it being Aerys all over again: him all alone against the world, silently begging for support that never came.

***

 **Jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
omg so i got to see moulin rouge tonight in its second preview and it’s SO GOOD YALL. you HAVE to go check it out. A list of highlights:

 **Jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
 _Replying to @thesuperiorjeyne_  
THE LEADS! @btarth and @j_lannister are INCREDIBLY good. their chemistry is phenomenal. i was convinced they were in love the whole time because they played SO WELL off each other. there was literally not a single moment when the atmosphere between them wasn’t electric

 **Jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
also: they’re so good individually? like jlann literally killed me when he sang firework? can we have more power ballads from him pls and thank you? srsly though if i didn’t know he’d been out of work for two years i wouldn’t have believed it he did an amazing job

 **Jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
and BRIENNE who may be my new fave performer ever. she is SO talented yall. can’t believe the industry has been sleeping on her all this time. i literally bawled my eyes out at the ending bc she made it so believable. i refuse to believe she’s new to the stage bc she’s SO GOOD

 **Jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
i mean the entire cast was incredible, really. ari martell! addam marbrand who is a GEM! obara sand who yall are ALSO sleeping on i mean there is not a single bad performance on that stage. also the ensemble is incredible and i wish only good things for all of them

 **Jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
seriously i loved all of it. the set is amazing, the choreography could kill a man it’s so incredible, and the ORCHESTRATIONS are so fucking good it’s unbelievable. booking my next ticket now bc i’m already bereft and it’s been like. an hour

 **Jeyne @thesuperiorjeyne**  
ANYWAY. go see moulin rouge. i promise you won’t regret it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early reviews aren't a thing in real life, but i wanted that first scene to take place at this point in the story so I invented them. also if anyone else wants to fistfight Baelish, I'm starting a club. we meet on wednesdays and talk about how much we want to beat him up for being an absolute piece of shit.
> 
> again, jaime doesn't actually need to act against his family, but there's a lot of guilt driving him here and preventing him from realizing it. i blame tywin for that one, too.
> 
> i meant to mention this last chapter but completely forgot: [vallhund](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vallhund/pseuds/vallhund) wrote a [companion piece](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704470) for this fic! it's set a little before this story begins and doesn't centre around jb, but it's absolutely fascinating in how it develops on this story and is also the best compliment I've ever received! thank you so much once again, i absolutely adored it!
> 
> next time: brienne has several awkward conversations, everyone hates hyle hunt, and addam has a few thoughts on the journey so far.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [6 Months to Opening of Jagged Little Pill/Crabgrass Frontier](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704470) by [vallhund](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vallhund/pseuds/vallhund)




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